An Alternate Route
by Animorphgirl
Summary: What if Sirius hadn't gone to Azkaban? What if he gained custody of Harry...but needed to raise The Boy Who Lived in Number 4, Privet Drive? What would their lives really be like? Chapter THIRTEEN is up! final one
1. Sirius' Decision

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. They're all JK Rowling's; please don't sue.

This is NOT slash of any kind.

**Prologue: How It All Began**

Through his tears, Sirius turned his gaze towards the sky.

The sky seemed blacker than nature could allow, though the Muggle news forecasters had given their explanations. The day had been filled with horrendous clouds, delighting in hiding the sun as the night now hid the stars. Not even the tiniest sliver of light escaped from the veiled shadows. The houses held no promise of hope, devoid of the burning candles Sirius had come to take for granted, taunting him. Nature's echoes remained; the owls hunted and the ants crawling through the grass. Life, to be sure, went on, even in the darkest moments of the world.

Sirius yawned deeply, staring at the dark ceiling without truly seeing it. He ached for his godson with the kind of pain that felt as though he had faced a thousand Dementors and only barely came out alive. The most recent events certainly brought a change to the young Auror's life. Only a week ago, Peter had betrayed Lily and James to Lord Voldemort. The slimy piece of filth actually approached the Dark Lord and informed him of the Potters' hiding place. Sirius had been unable to warn them quickly enough to change their hiding place before they could reverse the spell. Voldemort killed the adult Potters swiftly, but then became nearly destroyed in the process of trying to murder Harry. Sirius dealt with all of this with composure, forcing himself not to break down into sobs, nor could he sink into a depression. Sirius had certainly expected his friends to survive the war, but they did not face death on a daily basis as Aurors without adopting a healthy sense of fear. Each day, his friends seemed almost surprised that they hadn't been killed in their sleep.

Sirius could not adjust to the fact, however, that he had been denied custody of Harry, his own godson. Dumbledore felt that because Lily's blood had saved him, the blood of her relatives would protect Harry from the Death Eaters who were evading Azkaban. Sirius felt it was child abuse.

"That git," Sirius muttered, and for the moment, he wondered whether he was referring to Pettigrew, Voldemort, Dumbledore, or even all three of them at once.

He knew the headmaster's reasons, of course. Dumbledore was usually right in matters of safety. And, had the Potters actually listened to Dumbledore's advice and made him their Secret Keeper, Sirius knew that they would still be alive. Dumbledore was the only wizard that Voldemort feared –but, instead, James had given that particular honor to his best friend, Sirius himself. Sirius, of course, lacked faith in himself and believed that Voldemort would be able to get the information from him by torture. To spare himself, and the Potters, Sirius convinced James and Lily to make Pettigrew their Secret Keeper. He had been so convinced that Voldemort would never suspect that they would use such a useless person, devoid in the abilities and bravery that Sirius and James had been so famous for. Peter, of course, turned in his friends, probably for power. Had the rat done his duty and died to save his friends, the spell could last decades before Voldemort would know where the Potters were.

He believed that Peter would rather be killed than betray his friends. But instead, the rat had chosen otherwise. He'd seized his chance as soon as possible –the Potters had died not more than a week after Pettigrew had been made Secret Keeper. Sirius should have known. He should have suspected something after Pettigrew jumped for the task. Of course he had been the spy.

Now, Harry was stuck with the Dursleys. Stuck with Muggles who would rather see him dead than alive. Why they allowed Harry into their home, Sirius could only guess at. Money, perhaps, or blackmail, or Dumbledore –or even all three at once. In any event, the Dursleys did not love Harry and would raise him to distrust others. They would never be a fraction of the parents that James and Lily would have been. Sirius wouldn't have been perfect for the role, but he knew that he would have done better than the Dursleys.

_Of course,_ he reasoned, _Even Snivellus could have done better than the Dursleys._

He was too upset even to laugh at James' nickname for their old arch nemesis. Sirius hated Snape with an intensity greater than all of the other Marauders, but he had to admit that Snape raising Harry would be an improvement, no matter how small, from the Dursleys raising his godson.

_Oh, Harry._

Harry would grow up unloved, of that Sirius was sure. The Dursleys hated magic. Petunia refused to admit she even had a sister; Lily had mentioned three years ago, when, her erstwhile relatives did not show up for her wedding.

Lily's parents were there, though. They were the only Muggles there, but they were proud of their daughter. She was their favorite; she was a witch, the smart one, the pretty one, and the most behaved at home. Even at Hogwarts, Lily never got into mischief until her seventh year, when James corrupted her. She received top marks in all of her classes, received the honor of being Head Girl, and even volunteered in Muggle hospitals during her summer holidays. Compared to Lily, Petunia was just the resident brat at Number 8, Pansy Drive.

Several small, bitter tears made their way down Sirius' cheeks. He wallowed in pity, for himself and for Harry. Harry would never know his parents and would most likely never know love. He deserved much more than this. Sirius ought to have been the one to been a parental figure. Ought to have been the one who, when the timing was right, explain what had happened to Harry's parents. Sirius would have gladly shared any embarrassing memories with Harry in exchanged for this privilege. He continued to cry in silence for a few minutes before making himself get up and dry his face.

_I don't have time for this,_ he told himself. _I am going to find a way to raise my godson. There must be a way, somehow._

But how? Harry was safest at the Dursleys'; there was no question about it. Unless he could prove otherwise (for example, that the Dursleys were plotting to murder their nephew), Sirius had no advantage over them in the wizarding court.

"It's Harry Potter, Sirius," Dumbledore would say. "He might not be as healthy or happy as we would like when he goes to Hogwarts, but he'll be alive. That's what counts."

Sirius had to prove otherwise.

He began to pace around his rented room at the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring his reflection in the mirror. He simply didn't have time to battle with his image, yelling at him to brush his hair and tuck his shirt in. He had heard enough of that from his mum while he lived at home, thanks. He forced his mind to concentrate on ways to gain custody.

Hours later, Sirius was still pacing, but with an idea. "Eukeka!" he shouted, unaware that he had mispronounced the muggle phrase.

He would prove that the Dursleys were treating Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, in a way that no muggle or wizard child could be subjected to. He had to find solid proof of abuse, neglect, torture, infanticide –_Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Sirius!_ he admonished himself, rather sheepish.

Neglect second would be easy to find. The Dursleys didn't strike Sirius as the type of people who whipped children at minor offenses.

_Then again, Wormtail didn't strike me as the type to betray his best friends_, Sirius thought darkly.

Sirius barged into the closet, grabbed his Nimbus 1000 and James' old invisibility cloak, and opened the window.

He was going to spy on the Dursleys and convict them of child abuse (gaining Harry in the process, of course) even if it meant a temporary stay in Azkaban.

No one would deny Sirius his Harry. No one.

Two weeks later, Sirius had all of the evidence he needed. After doing an exchange of currency at his vault in order to buy a Muggle camera, he set off to inspect Number Four, Privet Drive. He expected to have to look closely, possibly even stretch the evidence.

Instead, he was armed with ammunition against the Dursleys, more than he knew where to begin. Harry's bottles and diapers were filthy, often leftovers from Dudley. Sirius witnessed Harry sleep in a dirty, spider-covered cupboard every day with only one, dirty blanket over a thin cot.

_Azkaban lodging must look good compared to this_, he thought ruefully, busily taking snapshots.

Harry's arms even contained a few bruises, albeit rather mild compared to what he had seen in the wizarding world. Whenever Harry cried, Dudley was encouraged to poke and hit him with his incredibly chubby arms. Sometimes, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley did the slapping. They had a very pleased, sadistic look on their faces when they administered this discipline. Sirius had to control himself to stay hidden in the corner and not strangle the Dursleys when he first saw this.

He had three hundred, well developed photos as proof. He took the matter to court, and even Fudge (a total dimwit, in Sirius' opinion) saw the severity of the situation. The question, however, was this; how could Harry be safe in another family when the Dursleys provided the blood protection?

The small courtroom was lit by long, thin, white candles, reminding Sirius vaguely of the Potions room during the winter. On impulse, he glanced around, but Severus Snape was absent from the trial.

Good. At least that git had the decency not to show up.

Dumbledore may have trusted him, but Sirius believed that even if Snape had never become a Death Eater, he was nothing but a greasy git.

The Dursleys stood before the judge wearing what Sirius supposed were dressed up versions of their muggle clothing. Harry was sleeping in a basket meant to hold laundry, and Sirius noticed in distain that part of the handling had come loose and was dangerously near to Harry's face. Harry was wrapped in a blanket, but it was worn and possessed a rather putrid stench. Dudley was absent from the hearing.

The actual session took only a half-hour. The pictures were worth, as the Muggle phrase went, a thousand words. No one could deny abuse when they saw it, and three hundred pictures was far too much to claim as a mere coincidence. Even the resident skeptic was sure to be convinced that Harry was suffering neglect from the Dursleys' care.

The blood issue, however, prevented Harry from being transferred to Sirius' home at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

For two weeks, negotiations went on, giving the press much to report. No one was without an opinion on the matter. At least the articles were more or less accurate.

Finally, Dumbledore suggested that Sirius move in with the Dursleys. He wanted Harry to be safe, but surely The Boy Who Lived couldn't grow up neglected, abused, without any love, when his guardian was standing there, waiting and yearning to perform his duties? Of course, the Dursleys were positively mortified. They seethed with rage at the idea of taking in a grown wizard. Dumbledore pacified them with money and even the occasional threat of telling the neighbors of Petunia's being related to Lily Potter. After all, Arabella Figg lived only a few doors down from the Dursleys, and though Mrs. Figg was actually a Squib passing as a Muggle, the Dursleys were horrified at the idea that she could prove that they were abnormal.

Dumbledore also pointed out that by this compromise, the Dursleys would not have the burden of raising Harry or the problem of paying for his expenses. This sorely tempted the Dursleys, who felt the cost of raising another boy was just below an arm and a leg.

The Dursleys finally took Harry and Sirius into their home under the following conditions: Sirius had to pay for all of his and Harry's living expenses. In return, Sirius received the guestroom and managed to obtain Dudley's second bedroom for Harry. He was given the privilege of using magic in the Muggle world in emergencies. This meant that unless the Dursleys were threatening to hurt, kill, or throw Sirius and/or Harry out of the house, his wand would have to remain unused. In addition, if either of them were ill, Sirius could use magical means to get help.

Vernon had been quite insistent about this.

Sirius suspected, though he was not willing to place any large sum of money on this instinct, that the Ministry granted Vernon this request merely to humor him. If Sirius did occasional magic, the Ministry would not send him so much as a warning.

Even so, things were different now, and Sirius was not willing to risk being separated from Harry.

Again.

Siriushad insisted that heretain full responsibility of Harry. All parental instruction went directly to him; the Dursleys were merely adults who happened to live in the same house as Harry. The Ministry agreed readily; the Dursleys agreed even more readily. Sirius could have sworn he heard the words, "Good riddance to that brat" come out of Vernon's mouth.

Judging by the courtroom's reaction, he had not been the only one who heard these words.

Despite all of this, Sirius couldn't help but feel that he had been cheated. While he would be free to do his godfather duty for James and Lily and free Harry from a neglectful childhood, he would much rather have done it in the wizarding world, away from Muggles to whom "magic" was a swear word.

At least Sirius was able to prevent Harry from growing up in an abusive, loveless environment. He now watched Harry sleeping in his new crib, a soft blue blanket over his face.

"Someday, Harry," he whispered to the sleeping baby. "After all of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban and we know for sure that Voldemort's gone, maybe then we won't need the Dursleys' protection."

It seemed almost impossible, but Sirius could still hope. He smiled to himself, pleased at the thought that was forming in his head. He imagined taking Harry back to Godric's Hollow, showing Harry where he spent the early years of his life. He would even be able to meet some of his childhood friends at the wizarding playgroup. James and Lily would have been proud.

"Sleep well," he whispered, turning to switch off the light. "Puppy," he added.

It would be the perfect nickname. Sirius' animagus form was a dog, so it was only natural that Harry should be his puppy.

Besides, if Harry was anything like James, his hair would probably fall around his face like a dog's.

Like James...

Sirius swallowed a sob.

Harry turned in his sleep, smiling slightly as he yawned.


	2. No Tickle Monster!

**Chapter 1. No tickle monster!**

Sirius hadn't been able to believe it at first. As he held Harry in the courtroom, it seemed unreal. Of course, Sirius had known that his evidence would be enough, but hearing that he was granted custody of his godson…after hearing all of the arrangements finalized…it seemed to go on for so long that Sirius had lost hope that it would really happen.

Now, over a year later, it was still a shock. Sirius had expected to feel thrilled for a few days, but then the reality of parenting would kick in. He was definitely in for his share of sleepless nights. Of course, this certainly happened. Sirius had his hands full with feeding Harry, changing Harry, making sure that Harry took several naps during the day so that he, Padfoot, could rest during this time as well. There was no denying that it was hard. Even so, Sirius was grinning most of the time. He loved Harry. He had loved the little baby that James and Lily brought home from St. Mungos, but that had been from afar. Sirius had never been involved with raising Regalus, of course, so he had not had very many interactions with babies. He was a little surprised to find how much patience he had with Harry, but not at all surprised to find that he had completely fallen in love with the little boy.

The only cloud in Sirius' mind, aside from the ever constant presence of the Dursleys who muttered and hissed behind his back, was that small inking in that back of Sirius' mind. It wasn't exactly his conscience, but rather a dark, accusing part of him. This part of him blamed Sirius whenever he got too happy. It was because of him that Sirius knew this gift was more than he deserved, since he had (though unintentionally) been the cause of Lily and James' death.

The voice would not let him forget this.

Whenever Sirius got too upset by these accusations, he tried defending himself against the voice. He pointed out, on numerous occasions, that Harry deserved better than the Dursleys, and Sirius believed that he certainly fit that description.

After awhile, the voice faded, but it never left him entirely.

Sirius had spent a lot of time trying to determine how to raise a nearly two year old child. He was also concerned about the abuse that Harry had suffered under the Dursleys. He had visited Harry numerous times when Lily and James were alive. He learned, albeit grudgingly, how to change diapers and prepare baby food. He knew how to differentiate between Harry's cries of hunger, cries of wanting a nap, and cries of needing to be changed. Aside from that, he had no practical experience whatsoever. He knew that there were wizarding books out there about raising kids…even a few about raising kids in a muggle environment, but Sirius thought that he wasn't going to get what he needed to learn from books. Lily and James had never bothered with them, and Sirius knew that, had they lived, they probably wouldn't have wasted time consulting the "experts." Not that he was against books or parenting groups, but he couldn't help but feel as though his situation would not appear in any wizarding book.

Sirius was also concerned with the long term effects of Harry's abuse. Harry had spent five months at the Dursleys…five months and ten days if Sirius wanted to be technical. It had been a relatively short period of time, but it was so early in Harry's life that Sirius did not know what the long term results would be.

Sirius remembered, all too well, one time when he had visited Lily and James just a few weeks after Harry was born. Lily had scolded Sirius for throwing Harry in the air. Sirius had justified himself, said that it was only a few inches, but Lily's reply had been severe.

"And what would you do if you dropped him? Oh sure, we can repair the damage with magic, but he'll remember it for the rest of his life! All thanks to you, Padfoot!"

The remark still stung. Sirius had promised to be more careful with "baby Harry" so that Lily would stop glaring incessantly at him, but it turned out that this was not a promise that Sirius wanted to break.

Sirius took things one day at a time. Sirius assessed, over the first month or so, that the damage that had been done was mostly neglect. Harry's only physical problem, aside from being reluctant to eat for a few days, was that he had developed a nasty case of diaper rash. Probably because of the dirty, used diapers and the fact that the Dursleys did not enjoy changing Harry. At least this cleared up in a couple of weeks. There were several marks on his arms, probably where Dudley had pinched him, though. Sirius hoped that those would fade away in time. His legs had a few cuts, but whether this was because he had fallen a few times or been hit was hard to say.

Mostly, the abuse caused emotional damage. Sirius could see this at once. Of course, anyone who had spent time with Harry before and after Lily and James' death could see the difference. Harry had been a very vocal baby. He had no trouble with crying, and often kept Lily and James up until well past midnight. Now, Harry whimpered when he was hungry or needed to be changed, but seemed scared to do more than that. Mostly, Harry seemed too scared to assert himself. It was as though his relatively short visit to the Dursleys had silenced him. Perhaps the small child feared that the Dursleys would return if he misbehaved. If this is the case, it continued throughout Harry's childhood, because he was generally well behaved and scared of doing anything that would anger his godfather.

For the first few weeks after Sirius gained custody, Harry did cry a lot and had trouble sleeping. Sirius assumed that this was because Harry missed his parents and had not been cared for by the Dursleys. During this period of time, Harry either slept with Sirius in his godfather's bed while he cried, or fell asleep in Sirius' arms. During the latter event, Sirius would usually drift off to sleep on a couch or a comfortable chair. He was too concerned about disturbing Harry's rest to try and change positions very often.

After the first few weeks, Harry did sleep a lot, but Sirius assumed that this was what babies did. He also became very affectionate. If he had wanted to be held when the Dursleys had him, they quickly stamped this idea out from under him. In fact, Harry would sometimes gaze into Sirius' eyes during the first few days after Sirius would pick him up. Harry never said anything; he just stared at his godfather with those enormous green eyes. Several weeks later, things changed as Harry settled into his new routine. He loved being hugged, almost as much as he enjoyed being held or rocked. On the semi rare occasion that Harry did spend the night in his own crib, he would crawl towards Sirius when morning came with his arms outstretched.

Harry was also very ticklish. Sirius had suspected this because James was the same way. He wasn't sure how ticklish Lily had been…James never said anything about it, and Sirius didn't have the guts to find out; Lily would definitely hex him. With Harry, Sirius found out soon enough. Under his arms, his stomach, his feet, his neck…those were all dangerous spots. Sirius wasn't sure if Harry actually enjoyed being tickled; he giggled when Sirius performed an attack, and he didn't start to cry. On the other hand, Harry had also spit in Sirius' face a few times when he had had enough.

Sirius loved to remind Harry of this. One of his favorite "baby Harry" stories when Harry was three years old and had trouble sleeping. He tottered into Sirius' room and explained this ("Harry no sleepie time. Wake time!") to his godfather. Sirius had looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:30 in the morning. He reached out to grab his godson, murmuring, "Come here, puppy." As he lifted Harry up and placed him on the bed, Harry folded his arms. "No tickle monster," he informed Sirius with a determined expression on his face. "Okay?"

Sirius had pouted, now half awake, and lifted Harry up so that he was sitting on his stomach but staring him in the face. "Please? Tickle monster nice," he pleaded.

Harry pouted. "No! No tickle monster!"

Sirius frowned. "Will Harry go sleepie? Let Sirius sleep for a little? It's early."

Harry giggled at that, but replied with a resounding, "NO!"

Sirius spoke in a quiet, deadly serious voice. "Then Tickle Monster must come."

"No!" Harry insisted.

"Tickle Monster is nice," Sirius explained as he tickled his godson mercilessly "But sleepie monster is better. Lets Sirius get beauty sleep."

With that, Sirius stopped the tickle attack.

Harry peered around the room. "Where is sleepie monster?"

Sirius looked around the room as well. "Under the covers."

With that, Harry pulled the covers off from Sirius and looked at the naked bed.

"Where?" he demanded.

Sirius shivered. Harry must have done that on purpose. "He's gone now."

"Yay! We can play!" Harry giggled.

Sirius shook his head and reached for the covers. "One of two monsters will get you. Tickle monster, or sleepie monster. If tickle monster gets you, sleepie monster will find you, too. If you let you get sleepie monster get you, tickle monster will go away for a little."

Harry pouted, his lower lip protruding out from his face. "No sleep. Play."

The effect was what Harry had intended; Sirius melted. Remembering how early it was, Sirius gave himself a mental shake and stood his ground.

"If we play, it's tickle monster. Or," Sirius paused. "What about pillow monster?"

"No pillow monster. Not fair."

Harry was referring to the fact that Sirius always used magic to pelt Harry with pillows when they played pillow monster. After a few weeks of cleaning up Harry's messes without vomit, he had sent an owl to the Ministry asking the "no magic" clause to be changed to "no magic on the Dursleys." He had been very sleep deprived when he wrote this letter, which the ministry could tell. They had sent a note back agreeing this to change and advising him to put a Sleeping spell on Harry so he could take a nap.

Harry's messes never seemed so bad after Sirius was able to clean them up with a simple, "_Scourgify."_

Now, Harry was pouting again, clearly considering his options. It was clear that he did not want Sleepy Monster or Tickle Monster to come visit.

"Play monster?"

"Pillow monster, tickle monster, or sleepy monster," Sirius replied firmly.

"Fine," Harry grumbled, sighing loudly. "Sleepie monster. Meanie monster. Meanie Siri."

Siri was Harry's then nickname for Sirius. Needless to say, both monsters visited Harry after that remark.


	3. Harry's Visit

**Chapter 2. Harry's Visit**

Harry was three years old now. He had had his birthday just two weeks ago. Sirius had given him a toy broom, several stuffed animals (or "aminals", as Harry called them), a play wand, some candy, and lots of hugs and kisses. He had made Harry a small chocolate cake that said, "Harry Birthday, Harry" in green icing. The cake had been too big for them to eat all at once, so some of it was still in Sirius' refrigerator. When Harry had asked why it wasn't downstairs in the kitchen, Sirius had explained that his aunt and uncle would eat it up.

Harry didn't like his aunt or uncle very much. They were very mean and always told him that he was a bad boy. They had one son, whose name was Dudley. Dudley was Harry's cousin, and he only wanted to do three things in life; eat food, hit Harry, and watch TV. His parents did not have a problem with any of those activities, but Sirius had put his foot down about hitting Harry. Harry didn't like his cousin, Dudley, for these reasons, but Sirius told him that he should just ignore his cousin.

Dudley was only a month older than Harry, but he looked much bigger. Once, Sirius had read Harry a book about trolls. After he was finished, Harry had asked Sirius, quite innocently, if Dudley was a troll.

He still did not understand why Sirius started laughing so hard when Harry asked that.

Harry knew that he did not always live with Sirius. A long, long time ago, he had a mummy and a daddy. They were gone. Harry did not remember them very much, but he thought that he must have been happy there, because he did not have bad dreams about them at night.

After his mummy and daddy went away, Harry had to live with his aunt and uncle. They were supposed to raise him and be very kind to him, but they were bad people and didn't want to have another boy to take care of. They hit Harry and made him sleep in a tiny, cold cupboard. Harry got sick because they never changed his diapers or gave him baths, but when he cried, they just hit him. Sirius told Harry that he knew that the Dursleys were bad people, so he tried to find a way to get them away from Harry.

It didn't work. Harry was still with the Dursleys. But, now, Sirius lived with them as well. Now, Harry had a bedroom instead of a cupboard. So did Sirius. Sirius took care of Harry. Harry thought that Sirius was much nicer than his aunt and uncle. Sirius never hit him. Sirius hugged him a lot. Sirius told Harry that he loved him at least twice every day, and usually much, much more. The Dursleys never told Harry that they loved him. He didn't think that they did, or even liked him a little.

Sirius had told Harry about how he had taken the Dursleys to court because they were mean to him. Harry did not remember this, but he did remember the day that Sirius had hugged him for the first time. It had been strange; he hadn't been held that closely in a very long time. That night, Sirius had given Harry a warm bath and Harry had been able to sleep in a real bedroom, not the cupboard.

Harry had been very happy since then.

Sometimes, though, Harry had nightmares. Most of the time, they were of Uncle Vernon hitting him with a stick. Sometimes, Dudley tried to suffocate Harry, just like he had done before. Harry would wake up, then, and start crying. Sirius would come in and hold him. Sirius would tell Harry that he was safe now and that his aunt and uncle couldn't hurt him.

Every once in awhile, though, Harry had a much scarier dream than those. He dreamed that there was a scary man laughing in a very mean way. He heard screaming in the background. Then, there was a lot of green light. The dream was always like this.

Sirius did not know what to do when this happened. He told Harry that he was having a bad dream, but never told him anything else. Much later, Harry would learn that he had been dreaming about when Lord Voldemort had murdered his parents; in particular, his mum. Sirius did not lie to Harry when he had those dreams, but he never told him about Voldemort or his parents. Sirius also never told Harry that his parents had been murdered. He just said they were gone, and somehow, Harry knew that they would not be back.

Harry's dreams were not all bad. Sometimes, he dreamed that he was playing with a huge dog who he called Paddy. The dog was much bigger than Harry, but he was very gentle. His fur was soft, too. Harry knew that it was only a dream, but sometimes, after he had a nightmare and was drifting off to sleep, he thought that he could feel fur brush against his face. He thought that it could not just be the blankets that were keeping his feet so warm.

Harry never saw the dog during the day. But it seemed as though it was always the same at night.

Harry lay in bed one morning, thinking about this. It was so nice outside. Sirius had moved his bed so that it was on the same side as the window, and the sunlight poured in through it. Harry loved to stare outside at the sky, imagining what shapes the clouds were.

It was very early. Harry always woke up early because Sirius made him go to bed at 7:30 every day. He said that Harry needed to sleep a lot because he was so young and tiny. Harry liked being in his bed…it was so much different from the hard cot that the Dursleys made him sleep on in the cupboard. Harry's mattress was very soft and his blankets and sheets were extremely comfortable. The only problem was that Harry had a pretty good idea that Sirius did _not_ go to bed when he did. As a result, Sirius was more tired in the morning and needed more beauty sleep.

Or maybe it was because he needed more beauty sleep anyway.

Harry giggled at the thought. He better not say that to Sirius. He'd get tickled.

Harry didn't know how to tell time, but Sirius said that he woke up at 8:30 every morning. Harry didn't think this was quite true because Vernon needed to leave the house before 9:00 to get to his job, and Sirius was usually sleeping then.

It was partly because of that that Sirius had a fridge in his room. In theory, Harry could open it and get some food without having to face his relatives when Sirius decided to sleep in. In practice, Harry could barely reach the door and usually just woke Sirius up, pulling on his pajamas and exclaiming that he was hungry.

Today, however, Harry was too busy studying the clouds to wake his godfather up. He thought he could look at them for hours, imagining what kinds of shapes they could be. There was a bunny rabbit! And over there, that was a car!

Harry was so intent that he didn't hear his godfather enter the room. He barely noticed when Sirius cleared his throat.

He did, however, notice when a pair of hands landed over his eyes and a voice said in a pretend scary way, "Guess who!"

"Siri!" Harry giggled, reaching for the hands. As he regained his sight, he saw that Sirius had crawled into his bed and Harry scrambled onto his lap.

Sirius was still wearing his pajamas, but he had a soft, yellow bathrobe on over them. It was Harry's favorite one. It was extremely soft. Sirius explained that this was because it had been washed so many times, which Harry hadn't understood. How could soap make things softer? Sirius hadn't tried to explain to Harry about fabric softener.

"I love you," Harry announced, pulling Sirius' arms so that they draped over his stomach, rather like a shawl.

He examined Sirius' fingers. They were so much bigger than Harry's, at least three times as big. Harry wondered if his fingers would ever be that large. They were also a little darker than Harry's were. On his arms was some hair that, Sirius had explained, men get when they get older. The hair reminded Harry of a dog, but it wasn't as soft as the dog in his dreams.

Sirius kissed Harry on the cheeks. "I love you, too, Snitchy," he replied.

"Your face tickles," Harry noted, still examining Sirius' hands (namely, pulling at the hairs on his godfather's hand as though checking to see if they would come off).

"I know, I didn't shave in a few days."

"Huh?"

"When boys get to be _really_ big, hair grows between their nose and their mouth. That's called a moustache."

Harry frowned. "My uncle has one. It's huge."

"I'm thinking of letting mine grow in," Sirius explained. "But not as much as his."

Harry shook his head violently. "No! You can't!" he exclaimed.

He must have sounded very upset, because Sirius immediately started soothing him. "I won't become your uncle," he murmured.

Harry shook his head. "It will tickle me. You tickle me too much already," he explained.

"Me?" Sirius turned so that his head was facing Harry's. Not the most comfortable position in the world, but he didn't want to make Harry leave his lap. "When do I _ever_ tickle you?"

Harry made a face. "_All _the time," he informed Sirius.

Sirius snickered. It was true that he had never used the tickling hex on Harry, and didn't plan to until the tiny boy was much, much older and more able to face the intense tickling the hex caused, but he was certainly dangerous without magic.

Of course, so was Harry. After all, Sirius was not _quite_ as ticklish as Harry was (perhaps he had been at one point, but he had never found out until he met his Uncle Alphard; his mum always despised those "ridiculous physical displays"), but under his arms and under his neck were still dangerous areas, and Harry often aimed there when Sirius began a tickle attack.

Mostly, Harry was too tiny to reach there, but he was usually quite determined and had accidental magic on his side.

"Wait," Harry ordered suddenly, and scrambled up from Sirius' lap. He grabbed a blanket from his bed, wrapped it around himself, and then resumed his original position.

Sirius kissed him again. "Cold, puppy?" he asked as he straightened out the blanket so it covered all of Harry.

"No. Comfy," Harry explained, placing his head on Sirius' right arm.

"Very," Sirius agreed, brushing his face against Harry's. His cheeks were so soft, and his eyes were beautiful and enormous…how could anyone _not_ love this little boy? "Do you know what today is?"

"Um…Monday?" Harry guessed.

"Yesterday was Wednesday. So, today is…"

"Tuesday!" Harry announced proudly.

"Very, very close, puppy. Today is Thursday."

"Thursday," Harry repeated.

"Do you know what we're going to do today?" Sirius questioned. He had told Harry about it a few times in the past week, but Sirius wasn't sure if Harry would remember that today was the day of their trip.

"The zoo?" Harry asked, hopeful. He had never been to a zoo before, but Sirius had read him a book about animals in the zoo on his birthday. Harry knew a few of the names of animals at a zoo, and really wanted to see them.

Sirius, however, shook his head. "No, not yet," he replied. He knew it was overprotective of him, knew that muggle parents even took babies to the zoo, but he was still scared that one of the larger animals would break loose and attack Harry.

"Where?" Harry pestered, grabbing Sirius' other hand with excitement.

"We're going to visit your uncle Remus!"

"Oh." Harry grew quiet, trying to remember this uncle. "Who's he?"

"You met him last Christmas," Sirius reminded him, "but that was a long time ago."

It had been seven months ago. Remus hadn't had a lot of spare time before then; he was working at the Ministry of Magic in one of the departments for breaking curses. Sirius originally thought that there was only one, but Remus had explained that there were several, though of different levels. His was not the highest, but it wasn't the lowest either. Because of the recent invention of the Wolfsbane Potion, Remus did not need to miss work the day after a full moon, though it was hardly a pleasant experience for him. He kept his condition quiet, hidden from everyone except his boss, who knew because Remus had been forced to put down his condition as soon as he became of age.

Sirius hated that sort of thing. There was always prejudice against werewolves, but now it looked as though the Ministry was taking it to a new level. Just because some of the werewolves sides with Voldemort…after what he had promised them, could anyone really blamed the werewolves? There were a few evil ones, like Fenrir Greyback, but most of the werewolves were just misunderstood. Remus hoped that the spread of the Wolfsbane Potion would help to lessen the stereotypes, but it was very hard to brew. The ingredients were cheap enough, but it took someone skilled at potions to make this one. The Ministry provided it, out of the wages of the werewolf, for those who worked for them, but the ones that did not were left on their own.

"I don't remember him," Harry confessed. "Sorry."

He looked scared. Maybe Sirius would get angry at him, or even hit him. He had never done that before, but…

"No, it was a long time ago," Sirius reassured, giving Harry a backwards hug. "I wouldn't expect you to."

He smiled widely to show Harry that he wasn't angry, and the small child calmed down. Harry had done this several times, mostly at the beginning of Sirius' "adoption." The Dursleys' abuse didn't go away overnight. Sirius had spoken to Remus about it and Remus, himself childless, had suggested that Sirius continue with what he had been doing. Let Harry know that he wasn't angry, speak soothingly, and give him lots of hugs. So far, the plan was working, but Sirius wondered what he would do if Harry ever started to seriously misbehave. Oh, Harry had cried a few times and called Sirius a "Meanie poopie head" but he never had the kind of tantrum that Dudley graced Number 4, Privet Drive with on an almost daily basis.

They stayed close together for awhile, watching the clouds in the sky. Every now and then, one of them announced what they thought the cloud was.

"Oh, that's a dog!"

"No, silly, that's a pillow!"

"Okay, _that's_ a dog, then," Sirius argued, pointing to one of the larger clouds.

"No, no, no! Bear!" Harry giggled.

After a half an hour of this, Harry's stomach started to growl and Sirius realized that they were due at Moony's in just under an hour. They scurried to get dressed and then, two bowls of cheerios and two glasses of milk later, Sirius and Harry were ready to head to Uncle Remus' house.

It was Harry's first time traveling by Floo powder. Sirius would be holding Harry in his arms during the trip. Floo powder was scary for those who weren't used to it, and Harry was only three years old. Sirius did not want to think of what could happen if he got lost…

"It's going to be very uncomfortable," Sirius warned, "but it's only for a few minutes and I'll be there the whole time. Keep your eyes and your mouth shut. You can burrow in my robes if that will help," he added.

Harry nodded, wide eyed.

"Are you ready?"

Harry nodded again.

Sirius picked up the small child with one hand and reached into the pot for some powder.

"Canis den!" he shouted as he threw the powder into the fire with one arm. As soon as it was gone, he put that arm around Harry's back, holding him even more tightly.

Harry seemed all right when they arrived at Lupin's. The back of his shirt and pants were a little sooty, but the rest of him was fine. Sirius suspected that he hadn't fared so well.

"Remus!" called Sirius, still holding Harry. "We're here!"

A thin man, just a few inches taller than Sirius, with light brown hair and an excited look on his face entered the room.

"Sirius!" he called, rushing to hug them. "And this is Harry, I assume?"

"Sure is," Sirius grinned. He put Harry down on the floor and gave his old friend a bear hug. Remus squeezed back. "It's been awhile," he whispered.

Remus nodded. "The hours are horrible."

"I can tell," Sirius laughed. Even though Remus was excited, Sirius could see the bags beneath his eyes.

"Thanks, Padfoot." Remus rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to Harry, who was looking around the room with a dazed expression. He knelt down on the floor, but even in this position, he was still significantly taller than Harry. "Hello, there, Harry," he smiled.

"H-hi," Harry whispered back. He looked Remus in the eye for a minute, and the werewolf smiled encouragingly. Seconds later, though, Harry's attention was back on Sirius.

"He's a little shy," Sirius explained, messing up Harry's hair. "But he's very sweet."

"I can tell," Moony smiled, standing up. "Would you like something to eat? I have some biscuits…"

Normally, Sirius didn't want Harry to eat sweets so early in the morning, but since this was a special occasion and he was already a little on the edge, he consented.

"I'll bring them in," Remus replied, smiling. "Do you want anything to drink? Harry? Have you had pumpkin juice yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I've had…milk, orange juice, water, and chocolate milk. Oh, and apple juice," he recalled.

"It's very good; would you like to try some?"

Harry looked at Sirius, anxious.

"It doesn't sting," Sirius answered the unspoken question. "It tastes a little like apple juice, except it's sweeter. I'm having some. Do you want to try mine and then see if you like it?"

Harry nodded shyly.

"I'll be right back," Remus promised.

After he left the room, Sirius turned his attention to Harry, who had wrapped himself around Sirius' leg. He lifted the child into his arms and headed for one of the couches.

It was pale blue and even softer than Harry's bed. In fact, it was rather long, easily long enough for Sirius to take a nap on. Sirius wondered if Remus had used magic on it. Most wizarding homes had plush chairs; couches were seen as a muggle invention. Even so, there were a few stores that carried them.

Harry hugged one of the pillows and then breathed in its scent. "It smells good," he told Sirius, showing him the pillow.

Sirius couldn't smell anything unusual, but perhaps he was used to it already.

Remus joined them before long, carrying a pitcher of pumpkin juice, some biscuits, and three glasses. Naturally, he used magic to keep the glasses in the air.

The biscuits were delicious. Sirius had never caught on about cooking, but Remus clearly had mastered it. Either that, or Sirius hadn't had biscuits in so long that anything would have tasted good to him. After all, Sirius was not a picky eater.

Harry did enjoy the pumpkin juice, but Sirius explained that he couldn't have it too often because it wasn't a muggle drink. Harry still didn't know very much about his magic, aside from the fact that he was a wizard and could make things happen accidentally, and Sirius didn't want to overburden him with information that Harry would need to keep hidden.

Harry grew less shy about Remus. Although he preferred his godfather, he seemed very content to sit in Remus' lap and listen to the werewolf tell him made up stories. Harry even fell asleep in Remus' arms at one point. The werewolf had looked surprised, but pleased, when this event occurred. He started to move Harry (what if Sirius did not like his friend giving Harry that kind of attention?), but Sirius stopped him with a smile.

"He's a light sleeper. It's time for his nap, anyway, and if you wake him up, it might be awhile before he gets back to sleep. He also gets cranky when he doesn't have his nap," Sirius added, rolling his eyes.

"Cranky?" Remus inquired, finding it hard to believe of this shy little boy.

"Yes," Sirius replied, smiling. "Rather like James, although a lot more mild, given the fact that Harry is three."

Remus snorted. "Has he used any accidental magic against you?"

"A few times, but nothing too serious. Once, he raised my bed so I couldn't get in," Sirius recalled. "I think he was tired of having to wake me."

"How late _do_ you sleep?"

"It's really not that bad. I go to bed around ten because I like to read…I'd say I wake up around 9. Of course, Harry insists that I wake up earlier, so usually the tickle monster has to interfere."

Remus rolled his eyes. He had heard of that story shortly after it had occurred. He knew that Sirius was always gentle with Harry, but wondered if Harry enjoyed this kind of attention. Many children, after all, did not.

Then again, if Harry was truly against it, he would probably say something. Harry still tiptoed around the edges when his aunt and uncle were concerned, but he was always fairly honest with Sirius.

"He's been having those dreams again," Sirius sighed. "About Voldemort."

Moony closed his eyes. "How bad are they? What does he see? Poor kid…he's too young to be having those kinds of dreams."

"Harry dreams that he hears a man laughing cruelly and he hears screaming in the background. It's his mum, although I would never tell him this. He says that he sees a lot of green light, and then he wakes up."

"How often do these dreams occur?" Remus wondered. "If they get to be too bad, there's always the Dreamless Sleep potion, although I am not sure how well that would work on someone so young."

"They have child versions of it," Sirius reminded. "I guess those dreams are once a week. Maybe once every ten days. There is no exact pattern; it's not as though they always occur on a Monday."

Remus sighed. "You haven't told him."

It was not a question.

"All Harry knows is that his parents are gone and will not be back. He knows that I'm not his dad, but he probably sees me like a dad. I haven't told him about Voldemort and don't plan to until he is much, much older. I will not lie about his parents' deaths, though. That would be an insult to their memories. But I think I'll tell him the truth about his parents on the same day I tell him about Voldemort, since the two are connected."

"I wouldn't want to be either of you on that day," the werewolf remarked, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "Are you going tell Harry about Peter?"

Sirius shook his head. "Maybe, when he's eleven or so, I'll tell him that Wormtail caused his parents' deaths. I don't want to tell Harry that he was their Secret Keeper. I don't think I could stand him knowing that I caused his parents' death."

"No one knew," Remus reassured Sirius, putting an arm on his shoulder. "We never suspected that it was him. You thought it might be me, for the obvious reasons, and I assumed that it was you, or someone close to us."

Sirius sighed. "At least I had the sense to tell Dumbledore that we changed Secret Keepers. If I hadn't, then I would be in Azkaban instead of that rat."

"What did happen?" Remus questioned.

"After we performed the charm, I went to Dumbledore and told him that we changed Secret Keepers. He asked if I thought this was wise, and I replied that no one would think of asking Peter, because he simply wasn't in our league. Dumbledore didn't seem entirely convinced. Less than a week later, when James and Lily died…" He stopped, too choked up to continue. "I was so stupid."

Remus shook his head. "Lily and James wouldn't blame you, Padfoot. You got Harry out of the Dursleys care, which is important. If it weren't for that, do you know what Harry's life would have been like?"

"Dumbledore insisted that Harry would remain alive if he stayed with those muggles. He didn't think that it mattered that Harry would be miserable."

"Do you really think that's fair?" Moony countered. "Blood protection matters. No Death Eater could get Harry when he was with his aunt and uncle."

Sirius sighed. "You were there. You saw the pictures. Sure, parents have done worse, but I had to get Harry out of their hands."

"You did. So stop blaming yourself." Remus' voice was firm.

Sirius managed a weak smile. He wiped a few tears away from his face.

"Harry's up," Remus noted, gazing at the little boy whose eyes had just opened.

"Have a good nap, puppy?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. "You're upset," he noted.

Sirius didn't deny it. "Your uncle and I were just talking about some serious things."

Harry jumped out of Remus' lap and scrambled next to him to give Sirius a hug.

"Don't be sad," he ordered. "Or tickle monster will come."

Sirius managed a laugh at that. "Well, Remus, we should probably be heading home. It's nearly dinnertime."

Remus laughed. "You wouldn't be imposing. Besides, I've tasted your cooking."

Sirius grinned. "Okay, we'll stay."

"Yay!" announced Harry.

A few hours later, Harry and Sirius headed back to Privet Drive. Although he felt a little better after his talk with Moony, Sirius was a little sad to leave so soon.

Especially when Sirius' knew that the Dursleys would be waiting in Remus' absence.


	4. Harry's Punishment

Thanks, Wiccan Jessica, and Fadinghearts14, for beta reading!

**Chapter 4: Harry's Punishment**

When it first happened, Sirius had been shocked. Harry was usually so well behaved. He ate most, if not all, of the food that Sirius gave him. He generally went to bed when he was supposed to, although the routine of reading Harry a story usually took at least an hour. Harry would always ask questions or want to see the pictures more closely. More often than not, he would ask for another book after Sirius had finished with the first one. It was hard to say no to Harry when he had that "I'm so cute" look on his face; it was not unlike a puppy begging for food.

It was not that Harry was perfect. Sirius did have to put his foot down on several occasions, such as when Harry wanted to stay up until 9:00 one night, or when he wanted to have three bowls of ice cream after dinner. Sirius did not say no to be mean, or to make it clear that he was the one in charge (as his mum had always done with Sirius), but because he cared about Harry and knew that these things were not good for him. He tried to explain this to Harry when he had to say no. Sometimes, he would offer an alternative solution.

"You can't have three bowls of ice tonight, puppy, but we can have ice cream again tomorrow, if you eat all of your peas," Sirius would say. He would then hug Harry to let the little boy know that he was not angry with him. More than Sirius saying no, Harry was most upset when his godfather got angry.

Many kids probably felt that way. Sirius probably felt this way when he was very young, but he did not remember it. Sirius never wanted Harry to think that he was angry with him. He knew, of course, that most kids rebelled at some point, and that Sirius would probably get annoyed or upset at Harry before then.

Even so, Sirius seemed to live in denial of it and hoped that Harry would be the exception.

This probably explained the Great Stove Incident when Harry was four years old.

It had started innocently enough. Sirius was in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of them. Vernon had already left for work, Petunia was doing some gardening outside, and Dudley was at school. Sirius was making pancakes and eggs for them, two foods that he made very well. Harry was watching him make the food, sitting on a counter across from the stove as his godfather flipped the pancakes.

Sirius had told Harry before that he was never supposed to touch the stove when the red button was on. If the red button was off, Harry still couldn't touch the stove because it could be hot, but when the red button was on, Harry was _not_ supposed to go anywhere _near_ the stove.

Sirius had explained that Harry could be burnt if he touched the burners when the button was on, and even the space surrounding the burners could get very hot.

Harry seemed to understand this rule. Sirius had only told it to him once. He asked Harry, afterwards, if he had any questions, and Harry had shook his head. That had been the end of it. That had been over six months ago, when Harry was tall enough to reach the stove with his hands.

Looking back on what happened, Sirius thought that if only he had been clearer, if only he had been more specific, maybe the Great Stove Incident (as he later called it, when he and Harry were both able to laugh about it, a great many years later) would not have occurred.

Looking back on the events of that morning, Sirius knew that it had been partly, if not mostly, his fault. He should have reminded Harry of the rule. He also should not have let Harry so near the stove. Of course, this was hindsight, and at the time, he was careless.

Sirius called Harry over to inspect the eggs. At first, everything seemed to be going well. Sirius had lifted Harry in his arms so he could look at the eggs but was not in any immediate danger. It was only after he turned away to get some milk that he saw what Harry was doing.

Harry was standing propped up to that his elbows were just the table surrounding the stove. His fingers were inches from the burner. As Sirius turned away from the kitchen, he saw Harry's face, inches from the pancakes. At any minute…

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" he yelled, grabbing Harry and pulling him away from the stove. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE STOVE!"

He knew that he must look furious, but he was so worried, so panicked. What if Harry had been burnt? Worse, what if his face touched the stove? Potions could heal burns, but he would need to travel all the way to Diagon Alley to buy them. People would think Sirius was an unfit parent. How dare Harry, his own godson, his puppy, deliberately disobey him?

"EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" Sirius roared.

Harry remained silent. He looked at Sirius with those huge, green eyes. Harry then made his face into the sad puppy face that always made Sirius melt.

Not this time. Sirius was too angry.

He did the first thing that came into his head. His mother had done it on numerous occasions for small offenses, so it should not come as a surprise that Sirius had this method of discipline in the back of his head. Even so, years later, Sirius' actions would still haunt him.

He grabbed Harry's left hand and slapped it hard. He only did it twice, but there was still a red mark where his hand touched Harry's skin.

If Sirius had been smart, he would have stopped then. Nevertheless, anger was rising in him, even faster than before. It was as though his mother had suddenly possessed Sirius. He grabbed Harry's right hand; Harry tried to turn away, but Sirius was faster. He slapped Harry's right hand three times.

"Don't you EVER disobey me again!" he snarled.

For a moment, it would have been quite possible to mistake Sirius Black for Severus Snape. The voices sounded nearly identical.

Sirius started to take a deep breath. He felt a little calmer now, and was just beginning to be aware of what he had done. Suddenly, it had not seemed like the best move in the world. Many wizarding parents were against spanking their children and this…well, this was worse. The mark would fade, but it seemed much more personal. Also, the fact that Sirius had hit Harry on both hands…probably similar to what the Dursleys had done…did Harry remember those slaps?

"Harry," Sirius began, trying to resume his calm manner, but it was too late.

Harry had burst into tears and run from the room.

Sirius was at a complete loss as to what to do. Now that he was almost completely himself, he saw that his behavior (though acceptable in the Black family) had been rash and potentially destructive. He, who had spoken out so furiously at the trial that the Dursleys mistreated Harry, and yes, that included hitting, was now doing the same thing.

Well, nearly the same thing. He had not been as extreme as the Dursleys. What they did constituted as child abuse. Sirius was not sure if his actions would be classified that harshly.

Of course, if he had broken Harry's trust and his love, then it really did not matter what the legal definition was.

First things first. Finish breakfast, turn off the stove. Then put some of the food on a plate and give it to Harry.

That is, assuming Sirius could _find_ Harry.

Harry could not have left the house, though. Sirius would have heard one of the doors open. Petunia would have screeched something about abnormal boys running around.

_She would probably be even more furious than I was,_ Sirius mused. He did not smile at the thought, as he would have done before. This was bad; Sirius knew that he had messed up this time.

Ten minutes later, Sirius was carrying a plate of food up to Harry's bedroom. He suspected that Harry was there, probably hiding in a corner.

Sirius heard some sobs, but did not see anyone right away. Harry was not in his bed, and he was not on the floor.

Sirius opened the closet, but Harry was not there, either.

The cries seemed to be coming from beneath him. Sirius thought for a minute and then checked under the bed.

A pair of green eyes stared at him. Harry let out a small scream…was he already scared of Sirius? Before Sirius had time to do more than wonder, the eyes disappeared and, based on the noise, Harry was moving even further under the bed.

Probably near the corner. Sirius suspected it was where Harry felt safest. That was how he had slept when the Dursleys made the small boy sleep in the cupboard.

The bed was low to the ground, but Harry had been short. He would have been able to maneuver his way through the small space without much difficulty.

Sirius, of course, could do no such thing.

He swore under his breath. Realizing that Harry may have heard him, Sirius swore again, more loudly this time.

Sirius paced around the room. There were two options. Wait until Harry crawled out from under the bed, or raise/lift the bed by magic. That way, Sirius could walk under it and grab Harry.

Sirius decided to talk before settling on either charm.

"Harry? Puppy? I'm sorry for hitting you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was very scared because of what you did. Can you come out now, so we can talk about it? Please?"

Harry said something indistinct, but Sirius had an idea that its rough translation was, "Go away, Meanie!"

Sirius was starting to feel impatient. He could feel his mother, so to speak, rising in him again. This time, he fought it off.

"_Engorgio!"_ he shouted, pointing at the wooden legs.

They grew quickly, making the legs grow until the bed nearly reached the ceiling. Sirius waves his wand again and yelled, "_Finite."_ The bed stopped growing.

Harry was still hidden in a corner, now more scared than before because there was nothing separating him from Sirius. He leaned against the wall and pulled himself into a ball.

This was new. Sirius had never seen Harry do this before. Was it a reaction that he had learned from the Dursleys?

Sirius approached Harry. He sat down next to the boy, and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry seemed to grow even more upset by the gesture of comfort.

"Harry, it's okay," he whispered. He placed his other hand on Harry's opposite shoulder and then, as though on instinct (as though James had been there, though Sirius knew that this was impossible), he started to rub Harry's back. Slowly, very carefully. Gently.

The sobs lessened, gradually, and finally they stopped altogether. Once this happened, Sirius felt comfortable picking Harry up and pulled him into his lap. He kissed Harry on the head a few times.

"It's okay," he soothed, still rubbing his back. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you."

The last comment seemed to set Harry off. "You did Meanie head!"

"Meanie head" was probably the worst insult Harry could come up with, but Sirius had to hide a grin. He had been called much worse before.

Of course, the fact that it was _Harry_ insulting him, trying to hurt him…the thought shook Sirius. He no longer felt like smiling.

Harry started to get up, but Sirius grabbed his shoulders and held him down. He turned his head so that he was looking into Harry's eyes.

"What you did was very, very wrong. I told you not to touch the stove when the button was on. You did. You could have been burnt, puppy. You could have been _very_ badly hurt. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Harry started crying again, and even though he did not speak, Sirius knew what he would have said. What _Sirius_ would have said.

"I _was._"

Sirius sighed, pulling Harry into a tight hug. "I'm sorry. I overreacted…I mean," he corrected himself, realizing that no four year old would know what "overreacted" meant, "I was angry. I was very scared," he added, more truthfully. "I was scared of what could happen to you. I was angry that you did not listen to me. I _told_ you before that you could get hurt."

"I-I wanted to check the pancakes," Harry explained as more tears fell down his face.

Sirius wished he had a tissue or something with him, but unfortunately, his brain did not seem to be working very well that day.

Instead, he used his fingers, trying to be as gentle as was humanly possible. He hugged Harry again, enveloping the small boy in his robes.

"You should have asked. Always ask if you want to do something that might not be safe. _Always,_" he added, for emphasis.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"That's okay. Do you forgive me?"

Harry made a face, but nodded. "_This_ time," he informed Sirius.

"Then I forgive you. _This _time," Sirius repeated.

Harry hung his head. "Sorry," he muttered.

Sirius hugged Harry again in response. Harry let Sirius hug him, but did not return the hug.

It was like that for a while. Not only did it take a lot of hugs and reassurances from Sirius that he still loved Harry before Harry could look his godfather in the eye again, not only by the end of the day, Harry was still unnaturally subdued, but he just didn't trust his godfather and wasn't ready to show him affection.

Harry had been such a loving kid before this. If Sirius did not see the look of fear in Harry's eyes whenever his godfather came near, he would have been sure that Harry was trying to punish him.

Even when Sirius told him it was time for his bath, one of his favorite parts of the day, Harry almost burst into tears. Sirius tried to be extra careful that night. He checked the water a few times to make sure it was not too hot or too cold. Sirius even asked Harry to check it before putting the small boy in the water. Sirius did not make the water level as high as he usually did, for fear that Harry would feel unsafe. The water was just over his belly button when Harry sat down.

Sirius tried to be extra gentle. He secured a washcloth over Harry's eyes so there was no chance of shampoo getting in. He spoke in a soft, calming voice throughout the bath, especially when he moved the soft sponge over Harry's body. Sirius tried so hard not to alienate Harry, not to hurt the small child, with every step. Harry was still so scared. He approached Sirius as though his godfather was Uncle Vernon.

When the bath was finished, Harry stiffened when Sirius dried him off. He practically raced into bed. When Sirius muttered a charm to make the blankets and sheets warm, Harry's eyes practically bulged out of his head.

For the first time, Harry did not want to hear a bedtime story. For nearly the whole week afterwards, Harry hid under the covers when Sirius came in, during the morning, to wake him up. Harry even tried to play with Dudley as a way to avoid his godfather, but stopped once Dudley tried to pull his hair.

It was a good ten days before things were completely normal between the two of them. Before Harry could hug his godfather again. Before he trusted Sirius as he once had.

They had both learned very important lessons. Sirius' lesson, though, would probably stay with him the longest.

Sirius promised himself that he would never hit Harry again.

Please review! Let me know what you think. :)


	5. Harry Goes to Muggle School

Thank you, Jessica and mjacobbubbles, for beta reading this chapter.

MorganD is the one who first used "Puppy" as Harry's nickname, and is kindly letting me use it for this story.

If anyone wants me to respond to their reviews, please include your email address, since does not allow authors to respond to their reviewers anymore.

**Chapter 5: Harry goes to school**

Sirius had been reluctant to let Harry go to a muggle school. He felt that most of the concepts that he would be learning (science, for instance) would be next to useless in the wizarding world. Most children from wizarding families learned what they needed to know at home. Since Sirius had no job; he would have been content with doing the same thing.

Unfortunately, some way or another, it was discovered that Harry was living at Number Four, Privet Drive. Shortly after Harry's fourth birthday, Sirius received some information about Reception, which was not obligatory but highly recommended for children turning five years old.

Sirius had received the information in the mail just three weeks after Harry's birthday. The letter stressed that although Reception was not required, it was strongly encouraged. Dudley would also be starting that year, but he had gone to Nursery School the year before.

Sirius decided that since Harry would have to start year one in a year, regardless of what he, as Harry's guardian, thought was necessary, Sirius might as well send Harry in a year 'early', when most of the children started going to school.

Sirius, being a pure blood, had never been to a muggle school. He figured that they were most likely easier than Hogwarts, since it was mostly memorizing facts and concepts and making connections between said facts, opposed to learning how to concentrate and channel your powers and energy to create or change matter.

In the end, Sirius agreed to send Harry to this Reception. Harry was excited about meeting new people, but was not happy to hear that he would be in the same class as Dudley.

Sirius and Harry had a long talk the night before Harry would start his first day at Hedgeworth Primary. Sirius had explained that Dudley would probably try to be mean to him, and he could not let him get away with this behavior. Harry could use any form of magic Harry saw necessary, but he was not to be made a victim.

Of course, Sirius also added the stipulation, that magic was supposed to be used _only_ in extreme circumstances. He really didn't need to tell Harry this, but Sirius thought it would be better to say it now and avoid any future problems.

"I'll take you in on your first day," Sirius promised Harry as he tucked the boy in bed. "I won't leave until you say I can. I think you'll have a lot of fun," he reassured gently to the anxious child.

Harry didn't answer his godfather as he hugged Sirius goodnight. He was very nervous…but also very excited.

Sirius took longer than Harry to get ready the following day, which was saying something. They both wore muggle clothes, which Harry was used to, but Sirius found uncomfortable (compared to his usual wizard robes he was used to). He had rarely worn muggle clothing before; his mum would have set the clothes on fire, with him in them, no doubt, and after Hogwarts, he had lived completely in the wizarding world. Even during the winter, he and his friends just wore extra thick, extra long socks and robes which they would enchant to stay warm.

Sirius drove Harry to school on his motorbike. It was meant to fly, of course, but it also worked very well on the ground. Sirius had neglected to tell Vernon how they were traveling, but he imagined that it would have been worth it, just to see the look on his pudgy face.

Harry held onto Sirius tightly as they drove to school. It was only ten minutes away, so they were at Hedgeworth within no time at all.

It was as opposite to Hogwarts as was possible to be. There was a playground, which made the school look somewhat happy, but the building was completely rectangular and everything was painted dark brown. There were long, wide steps at the middle of the building and two giant doors that Sirius assumed were where the kids were supposed to enter. Having already filled out the paperwork, Sirius and Harry had no choice but to go in.

Sirius kept an arm around Harry's shoulders as they walked, hoping that his godson didn't share his overwhelming sense of fear.

Harry's classroom was on the ground floor. It was right from the main office, so Harry would be able to find it without too much trouble. Sirius saw that there were two classrooms called Section 1 and Section 2, but he already knew from registration that Harry and Dudley were both in Section 1. Of course, the entire school did have recess together and ate lunch together, so Harry would still be able to meet kids from the other class.

A woman was making various notes on the board. Her hair was brown, straight but not pin straight. She was smaller than Sirius but hardly petite. Her clothes (a brown, bulky sweater and an ankle length grey skirt that flared out widely) made it hard to see if the woman was overweight and trying to hide it, or underweight and trying to look heavier. Sirius could not tell what her face looked like because that part of her body was facing the board.

He approached the woman, holding Harry's hand the entire time.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." The woman turned around. Her face was not exactly ugly, but there was no mistaking this woman for a model. Sirius was good at guessing ages of people, but grew stumped when he saw this teacher. Her eyes were grey; her mouth was wide, and her lips were thin. She could have been as young as thirty or as old as fifty.

Sirius hoped, for her sake, that the teacher was a young looking fifty year old, opposed to a drained thirty year old.

"I presume that you are the teacher here?"

"That is correct. I am Mrs. Horsfield. I teach Section 1 of the Reception program. Mrs. Swildor teaches Section 2."

Her voice was crisp and strict.

_Much too cool to be teaching such a young group of children,_ Sirius told himself.

"My name is Sirius Black. My godson, Harry Potter, is supposed to be in your class."

Her eyes narrowed. Sirius was not sure why, but perhaps this woman was one of those people who thought that parents should stay out of all teachers' business. The woman peered at the list. "Yes, I can see that this is in order." She turned toward Harry and spoke very clearly and rather firmly. "My name is Mrs. Horsfield. Mr. Potter, please take a seat at the desk that says your name."

"Yes, Mrs. Horsfield," Harry whispered.

Although the woman's voice was not exactly unkind, Sirius had taken a disliking towards her. He put an arm on Harry's shoulder as though to stop him from moving.

"I see no other students seated," Sirius replied.

Her eyes narrowed. "They will be, presently."

"In addition," Sirius continued, acting as though he hadn't heard the teacher, "you will refer to my godson as Harry, not Potter or Mr. Potter. He is, after all, only four years old."

"Mr. Black, you will find it quite standard—"

What Sirius wanted to say was, "I don't care a whiff about your standards. Harry is going to a family school as soon as he turns eleven, and the only reason he is even here is because of the damn government!"

His actual words were more neutral. "He is four years old and very quiet. I insist that you call him by his first name. I am sure that I am not the first guardian to request this."

"Oh, very well," Mrs. Horsfield huffed, looking quite put out. "_Harry_, please take your seat."

Sirius hoped that he sounded gentler when he took Harry's hand and said, "Come on, puppy, let's see where you're supposed to sit."

Harry nodded, rather wide eyed. The woman was nearly three times his height, and a good deal wider than he was.

_She must seem very intimidating to such a young child_, Sirius mused idly.

Sirius wanted to console Harry, to tell him that this woman was just a muggle and he shouldn't worry about her. He would not raise Harry the way that he had been raised. But he had never been in a position where he had to take orders from muggles.

Once they were out of hearing distance, Sirius muttered, "That woman is a monster."

Harry giggled, though rather reluctantly. "She's a little strict."

"You'll have worse professors at Hogwarts, but she has no right acting that way towards you. You're only four years old, after all."

Upon finding Harry's seat, Sirius bent over and gave the tiny boy an enormous hug. He brushed Harry's hair away from his face.

"I'll be back to get you as soon as school is over. If you don't like it, though, then remember to hex Mrs. Horsfield," Sirius added, mock sternly.

"Okay," Harry giggled.

Sirius left a few moments later with great reluctance. He hoped, though in a half hearted sort of way, that no one could see the tears that building up in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

_Damn muggles,_ he thought. _Them and their rules…_

Sirius spent most of the day reading and pacing. He also cleaned up Harry's room a few times. His bed had never been the same since Sirius had enlarged the legs; the wood seemed rough and unstable.

It seemed like forever before it was time for Sirius to leave to pick Harry up. When he arrived, he was still ten minutes early.

After waiting several hours, ten minutes may not seem like such a long time, but for Sirius, it felt like an eternity. At last, he saw Harry walking down the steps, his backpack swung around one of his shoulders. He was talking to a girl with curly brown hair and large glasses. Dudley was a few feet away from Harry and he was conversing with a few other heavyset boys.

"Harry!" Sirius called, waving one of his arms.

Harry said something to the girl and then ran at Sirius' bike. He was grinning widely.

Sirius jumped off the bike so that he could give Harry a bear hug. He couldn't wait to hear about Harry's day.

"How was it?" he asked, as the small boy nestled against his stomach.

"Fun," came the muffled reply. "Mrs. Horsfield taught us the alphabet. She says we're going to start learning numbers tomorrow, and then we're going to learn how to read soon."

"Make any friends?" Sirius questioned excitedly.

Part of Sirius hoped the answer was no that Harry would always remain his puppy and he would never have to share him with anyone else. The logical part of Sirius knew that this was irrational and Harry would always love him. Besides, it was important for Harry to socialize with kids of his own age.

"A couple," Harry replied, letting go of his godfather. "Not Dudley's group, though."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Sirius laughed.

He scooped up the small boy and secured him in the motorbike. As they made their way home, Harry chattered about some of his new friends and what they had done in school that day. He even announced, excitedly, that they had homework.

"What do you need to do?" Sirius questioned his eyes on the road but his attention on Harry.

"I have to draw a picture of my family," Harry explained. "We're supposed to color it in and then Mrs. Horsfield is going to hang them up in class. She says that we should all have a mummy, a daddy, and maybe some brothers or sisters."

His voice seemed to shake a little at that. Harry didn't know why he didn't have parents. Maybe, before then, he thought that just having Sirius was normal. Now, he would be exposed to a bunch of kids who had a mum and a dad. Probably no godfather, though. Harry would start to miss his parents. Would Sirius be enough for him?

These thoughts ran through Sirius' brain at lightening speed.

"You're special," Sirius replied, smiling. "You have me."

Harry giggled.

"Are you going to put your aunt, uncle, and cousin in the picture?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Maybe."

Sirius didn't know what to say. If Harry included his blood relatives, he might have to explain why his godfather lived with them. Harry barely knew that he was a wizard, and of course, his teacher would just think it was an overactive imagination. On the other hand, Dudley was in his class and the school knew that they were cousins. Dudley was too young to understand the Dursleys' insistence that Harry was not a member of their family. He could let it slip.

There would be problems either way.

Harry ended up drawing Sirius in the middle of his page, with him, his mum and dad in the sky, and the Dursleys on a far edge of the page. Sirius did not know exactly what Harry told his class about his living situation, but since there were no notes from Mrs. Horsfield and no tears from Harry, he assumed that the school hadn't asked too many questions.

For once, Sirius Black was in agreement with Vernon Dursley: In many cases, one should just keep his mouth shut and not ask questions.

All in all, Harry liked school. It gave him a chance to be with other kids, ones his own age (since Sirius claimed that he was not a grown up). When they got together on weekends, though, it was usually at the park and not Number 4, Privet Drive.

Petunia would not have Harry's friends visiting his house, messing up her precious clean kitchen floor.


	6. Harry's Cold

**Chapter 5. Harry's Cold**

Harry was five years old when he first got sick. Looking back on the events of the past few years, Sirius was surprised that it hadn't happened earlier; namely, under the Dursleys' negligent care. Maybe it had to do with whatever threw off Voldemort when Harry was an infant. Sirius didn't know, and was too busy having fun with, and worrying about, at being a good parent for Lily and James' son to give the matter much thought. In addition, Harry didn't pretend to be sick in order to miss school like he had during his Hogwarts years, though Sirius sometimes wished he would. He didn't get to see Harry for long hours at a time when he was at Reception.

Next year, he would be in the first form. Same hours as Reception, but more work to do. Probably a bit of homework, too as well Sirius figured. Nothing as hard as he would get at Hogwarts, but also nothing that Sirius thought Harry would really need to know later on.

Now, however, it was the beginning of July, and Harry was out of school until the beginning of September. It was still the first week of his summer holidays, and Sirius and Harry had gone to the park a lot over the past few days.

Now that Harry didn't have to wake up quite so early in the morning, Sirius was willing to let the small boy stay up a bit later. Before, his bedtime had been 7:30, no questions asked. He always had a bath and a story before he went to bed, so really, it was time to get ready right after supper. Now, since Harry was nearly six years old, Sirius allowed him to stay up an hour later. Harry usually used half of this time to play outside, on the swings, and the other half to watch some TV in Sirius' bedroom.

When Harry had to wake up at 7 to get ready for school, Sirius usually woke him up by prodding him gently, whispering in his ear, and if all else failed, jumping mercilessly onto Harry's bed. Now, the two had established a system that they each liked more than the old one (although Sirius did miss the look on Harry's face when he jumped on his bed).

Around 7:30, one of the two would wake up and then go to the other's room and try to get them to come down and eat breakfast. It was actually harder if Harry was the one to wake up first, because Sirius was a heavy sleeper and didn't need breakfast as much as Harry did. If the first person failed to respond, which was usually the case; the other person would get into bed with them and make loud snoring noises directly in the other person's ears. If Sirius did this, then Harry would usually turn over on his side and cover his ears. If Harry did this, Sirius would throw a pillow in Harry's face.

This would ensure a pillow fight until Sirius surrendered and pulled Harry under the covers with him. The two would lay together for awhile, extremely comfortable, until Harry's stomach would interfere by way of loud grumbles. Then, they would go downstairs and eat breakfast.

If Sirius woke up first, the end result was still the same, but there was no pillow fight. For this reason, Sirius usually hoped that he would be the one to sleep in.

This morning, though, it looked as though Harry would be the one to wake. Sirius glanced at the clock near his bed and it read 8:01. They had both slept in.

_Well,_ Sirius reasoned, _it's a Saturday and it's been a long school year, after all.._

Sirius should have realized that this was most unusual, even for a Saturday. One of them was _always_ up by that time.

Sirius rubbed his eyes sleepily, threw himself out of bed, pulled on a soft yellow bathrobe over his pajamas, and head to Harry's room. He knocked loudly; no response came from the child's room. He opened the door to find Harry fast asleep.

What was odd, though, was that Harry usually slept with his face above the covers. Today, his face was nowhere in sight.

"Puppy, you won't be able to breathe if you sleep like that," Sirius murmured, walking over to the bed. "We both slept in today. What do you want for breakfast?"

The head stayed under the covers. A small, groggy voice stated that he was not hungry.

Sirius sat on the bed, pulled back the covers, and put his arms around Harry. "Are you thirsty? There's some orange juice downstairs."

Harry's teeth were chattering as he said, "No."

"Do you feel okay?" Sirius asked, putting a hand over Harry's forehead now feeling rather concerned for his puppy.

The second Sirius touched the child's forehead he realized it was too hot, far too hot to be normal. What was more concerning though, there were definitely spots on Harry's face. Not huge ones, but they were definably there. They were the color of green and purple mixed.

"Tired," Harry replied in the same groggy voice as earlier, trying to grab the covers from Sirius. "Want to sleep."

"Not right now," Sirius replied, gently but firmly. "You don't look very good. We need to get you up and out of bed. Maybe you'll feel better after a warm bath?"

Of course, that wouldn't take care of the spots, but maybe it would make Harry a bit more alert.

"I'm cold," Harry complained.

"You won't be in the tub," Sirius promised. "Come on, up you go."

With that, Sirius pulled Harry out from the warmth of his covers and held the boy in his arms. Harry's teeth chattered even more and he started to sob.

"Shh," Sirius soothed, walking towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take you to St. Mungos after you get dressed and have something to eat. I suspect it's just a bug, but those spots are beginning to worry me. Also, you're never _this_ cold."

Harry whimpered but made no reply. Sirius turned on the water and then asked Harry to check it after a few minutes.

"Is it too hot or too cold?" Sirius questioned, softly.

Harry shook his head. His face had turned paler than usual, and he looked as though he wanted to collapse on the floor beside Sirius.

Sirius pulled off Harry's pajamas, something that the five year old could usually do by on his own, but in his present condition, Sirius didn't want to overexert Harry. He lifted Harry up and put him in the water with extreme care. Harry lay down in the tub, his teeth still chattering.

"Is that any better?" Sirius questioned.

Harry shook his head, his eyes closed. All over his body were the green-purple spots.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" Sirius asked as he ran a soapy washcloth over Harry's body.

"T-tummy. Head. Nose," Harry replied, miserably.

Sirius began to stroke Harry's hair as he washed the boy, murmuring comforting words like, "It will be ok." His mind was invested in the fact that Harry's hair was so much like James' unruly hair.

Harry couldn't die. Not at age five.

After several minutes of this, it was clear that Harry wasn't getting any better. Sirius helped Harry to stand and rinsed him off with fresh, warm water. Sirius then wrapped Harry in a soft towel and combed through his hair.

"We're going to St. Mungos," Sirius decided. "Let's get you dressed."

Even though it was summer, Harry wanted to wear a sweatshirt. Sirius brought Harry's winter robes, just in case. After Sirius found his Nimbus 1000, he began to wonder when Harry had started to look so ill.

_What if it's food poisoning? I'll _murder_ those Dursleys!_

"Puppy? What did you eat yesterday?" Sirius questioned as he changed into his robes.

Harry stayed silent, thinking, for what felt like an eternity. "After dinner I had a chocolate chip cookie. Aunt Petunia made them and gave me and Dudley one. Well, he got two." Harry frowned at the clear display of favoritism. "I also had some milk afterwards."

Sirius nodded. "And it just started to hurt now?" he clarified.

"This morning."

"Okay. Hold on to me, tightly. We'll take my broom to St. Mungos. Smoother than the motorbike. Floo usually makes you dizzy, no portkeys, and I don't trust the Knight Bus with kids. Stuart can't drive to save his life."

"Who's Stuart? Is he Remie's cousin?"

"No, puppy. He's the idiot bus driver," Sirius replied patiently.

_The ones who have intelligence stay as far from the Knight Bus as possible, even if they can drive._

Totally clothed, Sirius pulled James' invisibility cloak out from under his bed.

"You'll want to put this on," Sirius told Harry. "We'll be seen otherwise."

Harry peered at the cloak. "Seen?" he pondered, scratching his neck and touching the cloak cautiously. It was silvery and very shiny.

"Seen by muggles," Sirius clarified. "This is an invisibility cloak. It should fit over both of us and most of the broom. Whatever remains would probably just be seen as a tree branch, but I doubt that it would draw any attention."

Harry nodded, wide eyed. "Okay."

He looked so sad…clearly Harry was in a lot of pain. Sirius pulled Harry into his arms and held Harry tightly to his chest, lest the small child fall.

"Up!" Sirius half shouted at the Nimbus.

The Nimbus flew a few feet in the air. Sirius jumped on, throwing the cloak around him and Harry. Sirius felt his godson sitting on his lap, nestled against his robes, yawning.

If only he had a camera.

"Ready?" Sirius questioned, both hands now on the hovering broom.

"Yes," replied the half excited, half anxious boy.

Sirius laughed at Harry's nerves. "Don't worry, Snitchy. This is totally, one million percent, safe. Even safer than the motorbike," Sirius reassured Harry as they flew off into the night. "Too slow, though," he added to himself.

Now that he was in the air, he felt much better about things. The Healers would be able to fix Harry, of course. In the meantime, they were flying, flying in the muggle world. What Vernon Dursley would say…Sirius burst into laughter.

Harry was not as attentive as Sirius would have hoped. He had fallen asleep, though his face did feel a little cooler than it had earlier.

As a result, Sirius enjoyed the ride to the hospital. Flying succeeded in taking his mind off the thought that Harry had this strange, deadly disease and would be dead within minutes. Even under the invisibility cloak, he could feel the wind blowing in his face, and the nature lover part of him admired the night animals, mainly the birds, hunting their prey. He had been a night person ever since his adventures with the Marauders at Hogwarts, but the recent events of the last few years made it impossible to fully enjoy it. Maybe one day, though…His mind became full of adventures to take Harry on once he was old enough, and the stories he would tell his godson about his parents' generation. Harry would surely get a laugh out of some of their almost-being-caught tales, but this would have to wait until he was much older.

Harry was too young to be pulling pranks on his godfather.

Before Sirius realized it, he was outside of the hospital. He turned to Harry who, to Sirius' amazement, was snoring loudly.

_Takes after his dad in that. Poor kid,_ he thought ruefully.

Slowly and very carefully, Sirius landed the broom, pulled off the invisibility cloak from him and Harry, and walked towards the door. Harry followed, rubbing his eyes from sleepiness. Sirius reached out and held his hand.

"You don't want to get lost here, puppy," he warned.

_Though, with your scar, I imagine it wouldn't be too hard to find you again._

Harry nodded solemnly. "I'll be careful," he promised, yawning.

Glancing at the small boy, Sirius could just imagine James' reaction. "His first broom ride and he sleeps through it! Padfoot, you're a disgrace." Then, with a wry smile, Remus would have joked, "Some godfather you are. You don't have your priorities straight at all."

Sirius felt a hard, cold lump forming in the back of his throat.

"Come on," he coaxed, taking Harry's hand. "We're almost there."

They walked to the grand entrance of the hospital. They stood in the long line. Finally, Harry tugged at Sirius' robes impatiently.

"What's wrong?" Sirius questioned.

Harry pointed to a sign with his short hand.

"What does that say?" he questioned.

"Which one?"

"That one," Harry explained, pointing. "It has a bug on it."

Turning incredibly red with embarrassment, Sirius now noticed the sign stating which floor to go to for which injury. Upon a close inspection, Sirius saw that the second floor was for magical bugs, which was most likely what Harry had.

"Good job," he laughed, ruffling Harry's hair.

As they walked towards one of the staircases, Sirius distinctly heard an old witch yelling at the red haired lady at the desk. The others looked very bored; some muttered impolite language under their breaths. He added in a bit of a whisper, "Puppy? Cover your scar with your bangs."

Harry obeyed. "Why?"

"Just trust me," Sirius pleaded.

Harry nodded, and reached for Sirius' hand. The former marauder took it gratefully. They walked up the rather long, ornate flight of stairs that looked as though someone had given them a blue paint job but then quit halfway around. They head into a small, cramped room titled, "Receptionist" and took their seats at the yellow sofa after Sirius signed their names at the desk.

As Harry pulled his cloak around him and settled into Sirius' lap, Sirius took the time to examine the people nearby. Most of the adults looked healthy and were accompanied by kids who were playing Exploding Snap, Gobstones, or Wizards Chess.

Their ages varied distinctly; one little girl who could not have been older than five was sitting on their mother's lap. She was evidently trying to take a nap, and not succeeding. Sirius could guess the reason why. Two of the kids looked as old as nine. He recognized a family known as the Weasleys, or at least a portion of it. The mother was sitting in a grey, worn chair reading "Witch Weekly" while her five children were hovered around one of the younger ones. Sirius guessed that they were four, five (or six), seven (or eight), and nine (or ten). The eldest one was wearing reading glasses and pouring over an unreasonably thick book. The seven/eight year olds were undoubtedly twins, and making a big deal about something to their younger brother. The four year old girl had straight red hair and watched with wide eyes as her brothers conferred.

"And then they put this wire thing in your arm and knock you out with this gas!" improvised one of the twins.

"Yeah, and when you're asleep they do all of these tests and find out what you're thinking. And if you ever did anything bad, they tell Mummy and Daddy, and they get really angry," added the second.

"Does it hurt a lot?" inquired the younger boy, looking as though he only half believed his brothers.

"A lot! Sometimes the pain lasts weeks, even months. I heard this one boy say that it lasted for a whole year. He couldn't sleep during that time, so he just walked around like a zombie." The twin made a rather realistic zombie-in-pain imitation.

"Now, Fred, you know that's not true," insisted the oldest boy, turning the page. "Ron's only getting his tonsils shrunk, and it doesn't hurt for more than a few days."

Sirius could tell that the oldest boy was trying to suppress a smile.

"How would you know?" demanded Fred, pushing some hair out of his eyes. "You had yours shrunken four years ago; we had ours two! I'd think that we'd remember better than you would."

The other twin nodded and stuck out his tongue at Percy.

The little girl started to cry. "Will I have to have mine shrunken, then?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Only if you're bad and don't do what Percy tells you, Ginny," replied the other twin.

"I'll be good!" she promised earnestly, glancing at her eldest brother. "Don't make me get mine shrunken, please, Percy!"

Percy sighed heavily, placing his book on the wooden desk next to him. "I have no say on the matter. It's what Mum and Dad say. In any event, Ron, the process shouldn't be too painful."

The younger boy rolled his eyes, but still looked nervous. "Thanks a lot, Perce."

"Oh, Ronniekins, don't listen to Fred and George," his mum replied absentmindedly, turning the page. "Percy's telling the truth. The twins are just pulling your leg."

"Pulling your leg?" Ron and Harry both questioned.

Sirius and the mum replied at the same time. "Teasing you."

Glancing across the room, both adults laughed, rather embarrassed. Sirius spoke up first.

"I'm Sirius Black, this tyke's godfather. His name is Harry," he explained, rumpling Harry's hair.

Best to leave out the last name. At least, for now.

"Mrs. Weasley. That's Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy," she replied warmly, pointing them out. "How old is Harry?"

"Five," Sirius responded in an offhand manner.

Did she suspect anything? If she did, hopefully the woman would keep her head and not blurt it out in front of everyone. That was the last thing Sirius, or for that matter Harry, needed. Not when Sirius wasn't planning to fully explain the murder until Harry was at least nine years old.

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "So's Ron! I imagine that they'll be in the same year at Hogwarts, then…if they both go, that is. Charlie and Bill are at the school right now, and Arthur –my husband- and I both went, so I can't see any reason why my other children won't get in. Still, you never can know for sure until the letter comes," she added.

"Harry's parents went as well. He'll be there. Right now, though, Harry's at a muggle school."

He glanced at his godson who had fallen asleep. The cloak fell over him like a blanket, and his head was almost completely hidden by Sirius' robes. Sirius, yet again, wished he had a camera to capture the image.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"He looks so sweet," Mrs. Weasley commented. "Checkup?"

Sirius shook his head. "He feels very tired and he has spots all over him. He says that his stomach, head, and nose hurt. He's also extremely cold, which worries me. I'm hoping it's nothing serious, but I can't help but worry."

"Ah, it's probably Wizard Pox. Most children get it…it's like chicken pox. I guess you escaped it?"

"Either that, or it happened so long ago that I can't remember it," Sirius replied. "I hope it's not contagious."

"I don't think adults can get it as easily as children, but if you haven't had it before, you might want to be careful around Harry if he _does_ have it."

Sirius nodded and then changed the subject to socializing young wizards. He was not going to hire some nurse to take care of Harry in case there was a small chance that he would contact the disease. Worst comes to worst, he could always have Remus come over for a few days. Still, Sirius had always been fairly healthy and even though he had suffered some nerve damage under the Cruciatius curse after he informed his mum he was leaving home, Sirius thought it was worth the risk.

"I would invite you over, but, as you know, Harry lives with the muggles, and while I have the parenting role, I can't help but think that given their paranoia to magic, it wouldn't end up being a good idea. What about meeting at Diagon Alley or something?" Sirius pondered.

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Mrs. Weasleys' eyes shone with delight. "Send me an owl, won't you? Or should I send one?" she added quickly. "I hear some muggles distrust those birds. Some paranoia about their droppings…pure nonsense, of course. Errol's never had an accident, and he's been with us for ten years."

Sirius laughed. "These muggles are similar in their abnormal fear of owl droppings." Sirius relished the word abnormal; he heard Vernon say it often enough to his wife to describe Sirius and Harry. It was nice to be able to hurl the insult back at him, even if he'd never know. "But the Dursleys haven't got much of a say in the matter." He started to say something else, but then thought better of it. He turned to Ron. "Good luck with your tonsils. Don't worry- I had mine shrunk a few years ago, and it didn't hurt for more than a day. You'll have to eat a lot of ice cream in the meantime, though," he added with a wink.

Ron beamed at him. "Yum!" he declared happily.

A tall, pale woman with yellow hair and neon robes entered the room. "Black, Sirius and…Harry," she called.

It felt as though the whole room suddenly started staring and whispering about Harry Potter. Sirius flushed considerably, and picked up Harry from the couch, trying to gently shake him awake.

"Come on, puppy," he muttered. "It's your turn."

Harry's eyes opened. Sirius picked him up, very carefully, and followed the woman. She probably was either a healer in training, or just someone who happened to work for that department in the Ministry. It was often hard to distinguish between the two.

"This way," the woman replied, leading them down a narrow, filthy smelling hallway. She stopped at one of the doors marked 108A. Once they were inside, she replied, "The Healer will be here presently," before leaving them with a curt nod.

"Sirius? My tummy hurts and I'm _really_ cold," Harry complained.

Sirius sighed. "The healer will give you something for your stomach. I'll put a heating charm on the cloak. That might help. I'm sure you'll feel better after the healer sees you."

There was no doubt about it; Harry did look worse than before. His eyes showed a distant look, his nose was turning red, and his face was paler than Sirius had ever seen on Harry before. Sirius sat down next to Harry and put an arm around him. Harry suddenly shivered and covered his shoulders with the cloak.

A squat, brown haired witch of around forty entered the room in a quick, businesslike fashion. She wore purple, oversized robes that appeared to be cotton in appearance. "Harry Potter and Sirius Black?" she questioned, adjusting her spectacles.

Sirius nodded. "That's correct."

"Mind if I ask you some questions before we continue?" the witch questioned.

"Go ahead."

"Has he ever been sick before?"

Sirius thought for a minute. "He threw up on my robes as a baby a few times."

Harry giggled weakly.

The witch tried to hide a laugh by turning it into a rather awkward cough. "Mm hmm." She scribbled this down quicker than Sirius had ever seen anyone write before. "Any headaches before this?"

"No."

"Any history of medical problems?" she pressed.

Harry looked alarmed. Sirius shook his head. "None that I'm aware of. At least, not on his father's side."

"His mum?"

"Muggle born. Lily Evans," he replied. "She's never been here."

The witch stared at Sirius appraisingly, then nodded. "Right. That's because she hasn't been in a wizarding family. Aside from the fact that she had magic, her biology makeup is totally muggle. At least, that's what the theory says. I haven't seen any muggle born witches or wizards with any ailment before the age of seventeen, and certainly not before they got their letter accepting them into whichever school of witchcraft that they went to. I'm not talking about the purity of blood or saying that muggle borns are inferior to pure bloods or anything like that," she added, with some fire in her eyes. She seemed to be expecting Sirius to start yelling this at her. "It's simply a question of a different genetic makeup. Now, any problems before this?"

"He was mistreated for several months shortly after his parents died. He contacted diaper rash and had a slight cough when I gained custody of him."

"Any stomach aches before?" the witch continued.

"No."

"What hurts, then?" She nodded towards Harry.

"My tummy, my head, and my nose," Harry replied. Upon seeing the woman's confused look, he explains, "It hurts to breathe through it."

"How much does your nose hurt?" questioned the Healer.

Harry opened his arms to demonstrate. "A lot."

"Any spots on him?"

"Yes, and not just on his face. All over his body. I noticed it when I was giving him a bath this morning."

"Wizard pox," the healer diagnosed. "Muggles get a version of them as well. Almost everyone gets them, either as a child or as an adult. The good news is that the marks don't itch. The bad news is that if you ignore it, it can be fatal. Fortunately, you picked it up early enough," she added quickly in response to Sirius' face growing alarmed. "Harry will need to take this potion twice a day for the next ten days, even if he's totally better earlier. Don't let him outside for those days, and keep him away from the muggles he lives with as much as possible." She turned to Harry. "Are you tired?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm cold."

The healer nodded. "This one has a slight chill. Keep him warm, which I see you have done. Put a heating charm on all of his clothes, pajamas, and blankets. Might need to be stronger than a normal one, but take care not to burn him!

"Now, if he seems tired for a few days, let him rest. Probably best to give him meals in bed for a little. Baths are fine, but the water should be a little warmer than usual…not burning but warmer than you usually use on him. Keep him warm. That will protect him against the chill. In fact, that part should be the first to go away. Please contact me via the floo network if he still has this problem after three days."

Sirius nodded. The healer continued with her speech.

"He can read if he wants, or watch what muggles call the TV. Nothing that can hurt him, though. Keep him inside at all times. The only time you can let Harry outside is when you have a recheck in ten days. If everything looks normal, then he can proceed as usual. If not…well, we'll deal with that when we get there.

"He'll need plenty of fluids and a lot of the foods that he likes may not interest him now. Whatever you do, do not force Harry to eat solid foods. Soup is fine, as are the following fruits and vegetables." She waved an arm and the list appeared in Sirius' hands. "Follow this very closely. Some foods can work as counter effective in this situation. If he's not hungry, don't make him eat. His body will know when he's hungry and if he's getting enough to eat.

"Now, Harry might seem especially tired during the next few days. As I said before, let Harry have whatever rest his body needs. Trust his instincts on that.

"After ten days, Harry should completely well, but for the next few days you should gradually let him get his life back to normal. Don't rush him, but you should be alarmed if you don't see any sign of improvement within five days after taking the medicine.

"Any questions?" she finished.

Sirius was amazed to find that the Healer did not appear to be out of breath.

"Er, what kind of medicine will Harry need to take?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, it won't be too hard to get down, will it? Something like the muggle cough medicine for children?"

The witch wrinkled her nose. "Well, it will be hard to swallow. Just a teaspoon…I'll give him the first dose. The taste isn't too bad; it's flavor adjustable. Unfortunately, because of the makeup of the ingredients, it's very thick." She sighed. "The potions experts on the staff have been working at ways to make it easier, but so far, this is the best we can do. Now. He'll need some water with it. Don't even think about have Harry take it without water or some kind of mild juice. Make sure he takes it little by little so that he won't choke," she cautioned. "If he does, bring him here as soon as possible, and even then it might be too late. He should drink it in three to four swallows. Even on the later days using it, don't let Harry swallow it all in less than three. I can't tell you how many accidents we've had that way. None fatal, as of yet, but a lot of panicking that could have been avoided.

"Right. Harry, which flavor? Chocolate, mint, strawberry, vanilla, or lemon?" The witch retrieved a bottle of orange goo with brown dots scattered in it from one of the cabinets.

"Chocolate, please."

Harry's voice sounded so small, and frail.

The witch muttered an incantation, poked the bottle with her wand, and the orange goo changed into chocolate goo.

"If he gets tired of one flavor, just use the spell 'Camius' and then add whatever color you want it to be. Camius strawberry, mint, and so on," the witch clarified, handing Sirius a paper of the information she had just told him. "Have Harry come back for a checkup in two weeks, just so we can be sure that he's healthy and there are no lasting effects. You can't be too careful, you see. Any questions, then?"

"Is it contagious?"

"Yes, but not especially contagious with adults. There's a ten percent chance you'll contact it from him."

She produced a silvery spoon from the same yellow cabinet and poured out some of the goo onto it. Outside of the bottle, it looked positively loathsome. Sirius tried not to wrinkle his nose or look too alarmed; he had to set an example for Harry.

Next, the witch grabbed a glass from one of the drawers and filled it with water from her hand. "You can just use a sink or bottled water," she replied to Sirius' raised eyebrow.

She held the water and the spoon several inches from Harry's face. Obediently, he took a sip, made a nasty face that suggested he was gagging, and then tried to swallow it. After succeeding, he took a long drink of water and began to cough.

"It's hardest the first time," the witch encouraged, patting Harry on the back kindly.

Sirius saw that the Healer was mainly right. The next three swallows, though definitely unpleasant, didn't show the same almost agony. Sirius felt infinitely glad that _he _didn't have to take any of the medicine.

Sirius sat next to his godson on the cot and gave him a hug when the medication was finished being administered.

The Healer smiled sympathetically. "Right. Now, after you use this at night, he'll want to brush his teeth afterwards, of course. I know that it should seem obvious, but you wouldn't believe the amount of times people have asked me. Sometimes, even worse, they just assume that the kid shouldn't brush their teeth, and a few weeks later I receive news that the person has a major toothache. A cavity, of course. While we don't heal teeth the way those muggle dentists do-" The Healer shook her head as thought the idea of using a drill was no less than child abuse mixed with insanity, "-it's not pleasant on either party. Now, Harry should take the medicine on an empty stomach in the morning, and should have eaten dinner at least an hour before taking it in the evening. Any questions, then?"

Sirius shook his head. "Thanks," he replied gratefully. "Where do I pay?"

"At the desk. Five galleons for the checkup, three for the medication," she replied briskly. "No _tips_ are allowed, but _donations_ are welcome," she added, rather pointedly.

"You up to walking?" he asked Harry, getting down from the cot.

The witch raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't force him if I were you," she cautioned. "No unnecessary exercise. Paragraph two of the letter," she added, pointing to the paper.

"Right." Sirius turned rather red at the rebuke. He accepted the bag with the papers and medication, and scooped Harry into his arms as they walked back to the receptionist's desk.

He dug into his pocket for the eight galleons, and as he paid, noticed that the Weasleys had left.

_Well, there's always Rosie_, he thought, thinking of his tawny brown owl that James' dad had given him as a graduation gift. _The Weasleys sure seem like nice kids… Well, the older one needs to loosen up a little, but still…_

Harry fell asleep during the broom ride, yet again, and Sirius had to be careful when he put Harry to bed so as not to wake him. He changed Harry's clothes, using rather advanced transfiguration, to Harry's warmest winter pajamas. As he turned to leave, he heard Harry's small voice once more.

"Don't leave. Hug!"

Sirius realized that they had missed their morning tickle/pillow fight/cuddle period.

"All right," he smiled. He joined Harry, who snuggled against his stomach contently.

"You're soft," Harry noted softly before falling into a deep slumber.

It was several hours later that Sirius felt himself being awoken by his impatient godson.

"How do you feel?"

"Hungry."

"What do you want to eat?"

Harry thought for a minute. "Soup," he decided. "And an apple, I guess."

Apples were one of the few fruits that the healer had approved.

"You stay there. I'll be back." Sirius paused. "Are you cold?"

"A little."

Sirius held his wand to the covers and concentrated on the non-verbal spell. Harry shivered even as Sirius raised the heat, and stopped only after the blanket had reached just short of burning Harry. Sirius was a little scared by how chilly Harry was. Combined with Harry's warm pajamas, you would have thought that the temperature of the house was below zero.

_Poor puppy,_ Sirius sighed.

It didn't take too long to prepare the small amount of food requested. Sirius found some chicken soup in one of the cabinets and was able to heat it up without any problems. While the soup heated, Sirius cut an apple into small slices.

Ten minutes later, he came back to Harry's room, carrying the food. Harry was huddled under the blankets, but was awake and didn't look as though he was in great pain.

They ate in silence for awhile, but then Sirius decided to address the Ron question.

"Harry, how would you like to meet some other kids more or less your age?" he asked.

Harry frowned. "I have friends."

"Not magical friends."

Harry shrugged.

"You met Ron Weasley yesterday, remember?" Sirius pressed. He wasn't about to send an owl if he learned, by chance, that Harry hated him. Of course, why Harry would hate Ron was beyond Sirius' reasoning, but you never could tell.

"The boy who was going to get shrunk," Harry recalled.

"Well, his tonsils were going to get shrunk," Sirius corrected with a smile.

An image of a boy fitting into a muggle shrinking machine suddenly crossed through his head.

"What are tonsils?" Harry questioned, looking puzzled.

"They are these things at the back of your throat," Sirius clarified. He opened his mouth widely to show Harry. "You see?"

Harry peered at Sirius' tonsils. "Wow. Yours are _huge._"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Is that good or bad?"

Harry shrugged.

"Anyway, sometimes when you get bad sore throats, you need them shrunken. Like Ron."

Harry stared at Sirius with wide, horrified eyes. "I don't want mine shrunk!" he declared, covering his mouth with his hands.

"You probably won't need them shrunk," Sirius reassured him. "It's only if you have a lot of bad sore throats, and you haven't even had one. Don't worry. Let's concentrate on making sure you get well before we worry about any future illnesses, okay, puppy?"

Harry nodded. "So am I going to meet Ron again?" he asked as he waited patiently for his godfather.

"Do you want to meet him?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess. When?"

"Not for a couple of weeks, at least."

Harry played with his apple slices, and then he asked, "Can you read to me? Please? I'm not supposed to do much for now."

Sirius grinned. "Sure, Puppy, but first, finish your lunch."

Later that day, Sirius sat at Harry's desk, concentrating on writing a letter as the boy slept.

_Dear Mrs. Weasley,_

_Harry's doing a little better now. You were right; he has Wizard Pox. The medicine does seem to be working, though. He should be better in a little over a week. We're going to see the Healer again for a checkup in about ten days, just to be certain._

_If everything goes well –and I see no reason why it shouldn't- do you and your children want to meet Harry and I at Diagon Alley in a few weeks? Harry's interested in meeting Ron, and I'd like him to have some wizard friends who are his age._

_How are Ron's tonsils?_

_Sincerely,_

_Sirius Black_

Sirius read over the letter carefully. It seemed fine, though a little short. He sealed the letter, called Rosie over, and fastened the letter to her (leg).

"I'm not sure exactly where she lives, but her name is Mrs. Weasley and she has several kids. Red hair," Sirius described (thoughtfully).

Rosie hooted happily, waiting patiently as Sirius fastened the letter to her leg.

"Have a safe journey," Sirius said as he finished, patting her on the head affectionately.

Rosie nipped his finger affectionately before making her way out of the open window.

Worried, Sirius glanced back at Harry who was curled up in bed, but not asleep.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged, looking exhausted.

"Want me to read to you again?"

"Okay."

Sirius took out a book of muggle fairytales from one of the bookshelves and began to read (though not too loudly) to Harry.

Two weeks later, Harry and Sirius sat in the waiting room (once again); Sirius was reading Harry a magazine about Quidditch, and Harry was listening attentively.

"Do you think I'll ever get to play Quidditch?" questioned Harry once the article was over. "Would I be good enough?"

Sirius ruffled Harry's hair. "'Course I do. Maybe not during your second year, mind you, since they rarely take the younger students, but definitely in your third or fourth year. Quidditch talent runs in the family."

"Will it be a writing test?" Harry pressed.

Sirius laughed. "Written test, you mean. Naw, that's just to make sure you understand the basics. You'll take Flying for a year during your first year, and when you try out for the team, you have to do some stunts on one of the school brooms –or your own, if you're good- and they decide whether or not you're good enough for the team."

"What role do you think I'd be?"

"Um, not a Beater; you're not aggressive enough. Maybe Keeper or Chaser, though," Sirius considered. "Depends on how much you grow in the next few years. You're still kind of short."

"I'm up to your tummy!" Harry replied indignantly.

"Barely, and only if you stand on your tip toes," Sirius retorted. "Still, you may catch up later on. Anyway, if you grow _too_ quickly, you won't be able to sit on my lap much longer."

Harry looked horrified. "Why not?"

"Because I don't grow, but you do. Soon, you'll be really big and then, unless I'm leaning against a chair of something, you'll make me fall over!" Sirius laughed. "Don't worry, I think you still have a few more years left."

"I hope so," Harry replied cautiously. He glanced at his hands suspiciously, as though expecting them to grow another few inches then and there.

"Well, I can always put some blocks on your head to keep you short, if you want," Sirius teased.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Ouch."

The same blond woman appeared at the door just then. This time, she wore robes of pale yellow.

"Sirius Black and Harry," she called.

The two boys stood up simultaneously and followed her into the same room as before; 108A.

"The Healer will be there shortly. Checkup?" the witch asked, retrieving a pad of paper and a green quill from her robes.

"That's right. She saw Harry ten days ago," Sirius clarified.

The witch scribbled this down, head nodding, and then scampered off.

"Er, you don't feel sick or anything, do you?" Sirius asked offhandedly, realizing that he should have asked this before.

Harry shook his head. "My tummy, nose, and head are all better!" he replied happily, scratching his ear. "Yay!"

Sirius grinned, very relieved to hear this.

The Healer made her way in a few minutes later.

"All right, Sirius Black and Harry Potter, then?" she asked, looking rushed and in a bad mood.

"That's right."

She held out her wand and did some tests to determine Harry's reflexes. He must have done well, because the Healer nodded approvingly and scribbled the information down on a piece of parchment.

"Any remaining symptoms, Harry?" she asked.

Harry shook his head.

"All of your marks are gone?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Any medicine left?"

"About half of the bottle," Sirius replied, taking it out of his pocket and showing it to the Healer. "I used the exact amount you told me, though."

The Healer nodded. "Yes, that's fine. They put a little too much in. If Harry gets this again, which is highly unusual, you can use the medicine again, provided that no more than five hundred years passed." She smiled slightly at that remark. "Keep it handy for the next few weeks as a just-in-case, but after that you would do best to throw it out. It can't be reused on others…germs and all. The sterilizing charms don't work on this, at any rate." She flipped the page of her parchment. "So if you don't have any concerns…you're free to leave."

Sirius flushed slightly. "Thanks for your help," he replied, turning to Harry and nodding to him.

"Yeah, thank you," Harry echoed, grinning widely.

"Come on, Harry," he added, taking his hand as they walked out the door. "Let's go home."

Just as they made their way across the hallway, Sirius saw a familiar face. He couldn't help it; he snarled at the former Death Eater.

"Did you say something?" Harry inquired, turning his green eyes to Sirius, who felt his anger melting away.

"Nothing important," Sirius replied, turning away from the greasy haired figure, now rapidly approaching them.

Harry turned to the figure. "Hello!" he said happily, waving. "I'm Harry! What's your name?"

The figure surveyed Harry with a mix of wonder and extreme dislike. "Snape. Professor Snape, to you, Potter."

"How'd you know my last name?"

Snape seemed even more surprised that Harry was continuing the conversation. Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder, eying Snape with pure hatred.

"I knew your father at school. Perhaps you will, with hard work, not become more than half of the arrogant git he was. Then again, given who you're raised by, I imagine that this would be too much to expect," replied a cold Snape.

"You knew Daddy?" asked Harry, excited.

Sirius looked bewildered.

Snape regarded Harry with the disgust reserved for the lowest of insects. "As I said just now, your father was a prat who tormented all who disagreed with him, and hexed anyone who got in his way."

Harry pouted. "But _I'm_ not like that!"

"You will be, with that imbecile raising you. Out of my way, Potter. Black," he added as an afterthought. Then he walked away before Harry could say anything else. Snape didn't even notice Harry's tears, or if he did, he showed no sign of caring.

Sirius, however, both noticed and cared deeply. "Shh," he murmured, picking Harry up and hugging him tightly. "Don't mind him, he's just bitter."

"M-my d-daddy wa-wasn't mean!" Harry managed to get out between tears. "And neither are you!"

"Of course he wasn't. And I'm only a little mean," Sirius joked, hoping to get a smile. It worked. "Snape hates everyone now. Just ignore him. He's a real Meanie head."

Harry nodded.

"You'll have him for Potions at Hogwarts. If we work hard enough, though, we won't let him have a chance to humiliate you like that again," Sirius promised. "If you want to."

"I do," replied Harry solemnly. "And he better not make fun of Daddy."

"Well, I can't promise that," Sirius cautioned. "We'll try to make sure he doesn't get to you, though. Besides, you don't need to worry about it for six more years."

Harry sniffled again, but let Sirius take his hand as they quietly walked out of the hospital.


	7. Recuperation

Sirius woke up that night to the sound of sniffles. His first thought was, admittedly, _What on Earth is Snivellus doing in my room?!_

He then realized that the noise sounded like it was coming from a young person. Besides, what would Snape be doing in his room?

Sirius opened his eyes very reluctantly and pushed himself against the pillows. A tiny, brown-haired figure was hunched over in the corner of the room, hands over his face.

"Harry?" he asked, wondering if his godson was sick again. "Harry, what's wrong?"

A head peeped out from under the hands, and Sirius could guess that Harry had been crying. He switched on the lamp.

Sure enough, tears were readily streaming down Harry's face and onto his sheep-covered pajamas. He looked away from Sirius, as though ashamed.

"Come here." Sirius had tried to make his voice sound gentle and reassuring. Instead, it sounded stern and rather harsh.

Even so, Harry obeyed. He climbed, with some difficulty, onto the bed. Finally, Sirius reached out and pulled him in his arms, holding him tightly. The sniffles subsided somewhat. Harry pulled away from the hug after a few minutes and made himself comfortable on Sirius' lap.

"Now, what's wrong?" Sirius questioned, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"N-nothing." Harry squirmed out of Sirius' reach.

Sirius turned to give Harry a stern look. "Don't lie to me," he admonished, rather harsher than he had intended.

Harry looked away, face reddening. "Sorry," he mumbled.

_Let's try a different approach, then,_ Sirius thought.

"Do you feel sick?" Sirius asked.

_Might as well get one thing out of the way. Less to worry about that way._

If anything, that made things worse. Harry shook his head, but moved even farther away from Sirius, as though he had some deadly disease.

What was wrong with Harry? He never acted this way before. He had been fine at dinner earlier, and when Sirius had said good night, Harry seemed perfectly content.

Sirius tentatively reached out as though to take his godson's hand. Harry just continued to back away.

_Whatever's bothering him, it's serious. Have I done anything?_

Sirius ran through the events of the last few hours carefully, but couldn't think of anything he had done to provoke this kind of a reaction. Finally, he gave up.

"Want a pillow, then? Might be more comfortable than the railing," he tried.

Harry nodded shyly. "Okay," he mumbled.

Sirius reached for one of the many pillows that occupied his bed and handed a large, soft, light blue one over.

Harry took it, slightly hesitant, and curled up against it. Sirius tried not to sigh. "You can use the blankets if you want."

"N-no, I can't," came the tiny voice.

"What?"

Harry turned to face Sirius and looked as though what he was saying was obvious. "Your feet are under the blankets, and you're wearing slippers. They'll strangle me."

Oh. A nightmare, then. Well, Sirius had had plenty of experience with those.

"Did shoes strangle you earlier? When you were sleeping?"

Harry nodded. "But those had those strings on them," he clarified.

"Ohhh. You mean like the kind that I sometimes wear?" Sirius questioned, remembering a hideous pair of Vernon's that he would occasionally borrow for muggle business.

"Yeah. They tried to. . ." Harry paused and then put his hands around his throat. "Do that to me."

"Strangle you," Sirius corrected without thinking. Well, that certainly explained everything. Harry must have thought the event really happened.

"Yeah. I don't want yours to hurt me." He seemed a little less scared now. He was slowly inching toward Sirius, as though scared he would become a giant shoelace and bite him.

"It was just a dream, Harry," Sirius soothed, cautiously extending an arm towards him. "It's not real. It can't happen to you."

_Well, I imagine that if someone placed a Strangling Charm on some shoelaces…_Sirius conceded inwardly, trying to hide a grin at the image.

"It felt real," he protested, folding his arms in frustration. "It hurt."

"I know it felt real, and I'm sure that in your dream it must have hurt. But Harry, it didn't happen. It's all right. You're safe. And I promise you, my shoes aren't going to hurt you."

Harry inched forward so that he was within an arm's length of his godfather.

"Promise?" he asked, still suspicious.

"I promise," Sirius replied kindly. "Now, do you want to stay here, or go back to your bed?"

Harry eyed the bed with an appraising look. "Here," he decided.

"You'll have to be next to me, then," Sirius warned.

"So?" Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes. He tried to get under the covers but failed, lacking the energy.

With a rush of tenderness, Sirius laughed, becoming increasingly tired himself. "Here, let me," he whispered as he pulled the covers aside.

Harry crept in and nestled against a pillow, hands propped under his neck. Sirius pulled the blankets on top of him and then settled against his godson, pulling an arm around him. Just as he was about to fall asleep though, he felt Harry's foot brush against his own. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, though, except a piercing scream came a few seconds later.

"Sirius, your feet are freezing!" Harry nearly wailed.

Sirius opened his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, too tired to be apologetic. He merely put the other hand around Harry's shoulders, hoping vaguely that the display of love would show what he was almost too tired to feel.

"It's okay," Harry replied, but he moved his foot away from Sirius' as though it stung. He did, however, curl up closer in Sirius' arms, and knew that there wouldn't be any more shoe attacks that night.

"'Night, Sirius," he whispered.

"Sweet dreams, Harry," was the response.

Moments later, sleep claimed Sirius.

The next morning, Sirius woke up feeling extremely cold. When he opened his eyes, he realized that all of the blankets had been wrest from him during the night. Harry was curled up in them with a peaceful look on his face. Sirius felt his forehead and saw that Harry was also very warm.

_How could he not be, with two million blankets surrounding him?_ He questioned sheepishly.

It was a very cute picture. The fact remained, however, that Sirius was both freezing and tired. The only logical response, then, was to coax Harry out from under the covers and persuade him to share some of the blankets.

"Harry?" he tried.

The ball rolled over somewhat on its side.

"Harry? I need some covers, too. It's freezing."

Two green eyes opened and stared at Sirius. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my bed, puppy," was the gentle response. "You had a bad dream yesterday."

"With the shoes." Harry yawned. "Is it time to wake up?"

Sirius glanced at the clock. 6:30. Not even remotely. "Nope. But I'm cold, so do you mind sharing?"

Harry very reluctantly untangled himself from the covers so that they left enough room for Sirius to crawl under.

"Thanks," he replied, truly grateful. "Can I have a hug, too?" he added.

The warm muffin nodded and embraced Sirius, burying his head in his sleeping robes. Sirius felt the heat from both Harry and the covers seep into him as he relaxed, holding his godson close to his heart.

They stayed like that for awhile. Sirius just listened to Harry's breathing which, somehow, soothed him. They lay on their sides to that Harry was completely enveloped in Sirius' arms, yet they were both able to breathe. Harry balanced out Sirius' robes as a sort of pillow, his head nearly smothered in them.

Finally, Sirius got up and stretched, gently repositioning Harry back into the covers, who let out a small murmur of protest.

"Stay," he pleaded, half asleep. "Don't go."

He could hardly refuse this response. "Just a few minutes, puppy," he replied, trying to hide a grin.

Harry smiled happily and pushed himself up in bed, clearly wanting to hug his godfather. Sirius immediately put his arms around Harry's shoulders. Almost instinctively, he began to rub his godson's back, his hands working around his shoulders. Just like how his favorite uncle used to after his parents screamed at him for befriending Lupin, a werewolf, or dating a mere half blood.

His thoughts were interrupted by Harry's mumbling. "What are you doing?" he asked in a sleepy tone, tilting his head to one side.

"Do you like it?" Sirius questioned, wondering if he had been hurting Harry.

"Yeah, it's nice." There was a long pause before Harry continued. "Did Daddy know how?"

Sirius nearly flinched at the unexpected question. He barely managed to reply, "Yes, he taught me," when a tear came.

_Knock it off, Sirius!_ He commanded himself. Another part of him, though, was saying, _There's nothing wrong with getting upset. You and Harry will both need to talk about it someday._

He forced himself to concentrate on something else. Anything else. He listened to Harry's breathing for awhile, hearing the five year old take deep, steady breaths. Not aware that anything was really wrong.

_He's so innocent. . ._ Sirius marveled. _So young. . ._

Harry must have guessed that something was wrong, because he asked then, "Did Remie know, too?"

"No, we did it for him after his transformations. In the hospital wing, usually. He always looked terrible, even worse than today because the wolfsbane potion hadn't been invented then. Well, your dad was better at giving back rubs than I was, but Remus insists that I'm pretty good," Sirius remarked.

"You are." Harry turned to face his godfather. "Very good," he emphasized.

Sirius managed a grin. "Thanks," he whispered, wrapping Harry in a long, soothing embrace. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"You only tell me every day," Harry replied, grinning widely as he rolled his huge green eyes.

Sirius wished he could have smiled back, but it was as though there was a boulder in his stomach.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure you know, or if I'm doing things the right away. You are a son to me, Harry, but I haven't exactly had much experience with kids before you. Aside from being one. I still am fifteen at heart, I guess," he admitted, wondering if it was at all appropriate to be voicing these doubts to a five year old.

Then again, who really had the right to make these decisions for him?

"Sirius, of course I know," Harry replied with fervor. He broke away from the hug so that he could look Sirius in the eye. "I love you so much."

"Thanks, puppy," Sirius replied, somewhat weakly.

"One thing, though," Harry added with a devious look in his eyes.

"Oh?"

"Your feet are still freezing!"

Sirius threw a pillow at Harry in response.

A/N: I apologize for the LONG delay. Classes, work, computer failure, and lack of inspiration will do that to you. I hope to get up to the point where Harry starts Hogwarts by the time the seventh book comes out, but could use some advice for in between chapters (namely plot). I have the few editions—though I don't know how it will work into chapters—but want to wait a little before posting to be sure I still have some readers.


	8. Visit to the Burrow

**Visit to the Burrow**

"Harry, are you almost ready?" Sirius called from the hallway.

"Just about. I can't get this button, though," replied the rather distraught five year old.

"Hang on, let me see."

Sirius entered the room to see Harry's sweater on backwards and the buttons and their holes matched up in every which way. He tried not to crack up.

"It's, er, on backwards," Sirius said with what he hoped was a straight face. "But the rest of you looks good."

Harry beamed and then tried unsuccessfully to undo the buttons of his sheep-covered sweater. Sirius smiled.

"Here, let me help," he volunteered, stepping behind his godson and undoing the buttons.

Ten minutes later, Harry and Sirius were on their way to the Weasleys, using the broom and (of course) the invisibility cloak.

"Sirius?" Harry piped up while glancing at the clouds.

"Yes?"

"Where did you get the invisibility cloak?" Harry wondered.

"It…it used to be your dad's," Sirius replied, rather guarded. "Dumbledore gave me it when I adopted you."

"What happened to Mummy and Daddy?"

"They…died. When you were about one."

"Oh." Pause. Then, "Will I ever see them again?"

"Most likely, but no one knows for sure," was the honest response. "Not for a long, long time, at any rate."

"Then you are. . ."

"I was your dad's best friend. He asked me to raise you in case anything happened to him."

"Are you an uncle, then? Like Uncle Vernon?"

Sirius smiled awkwardly. "We're distantly related by blood, but much closely related by love. That's what counts," he explained.

He would rather not consider himself like Harry's beastly uncle. He also couldn't help but wish that they were somewhere else having the conversation rather than on a broomstick. He rather wanted to be facing his godson as he explained family to him, too.

Then again, Lily and James hadn't wanted their last moments to be pleading for Voldemort's mercy; Sirius should consider himself lucky.

At least Harry didn't ask how Lily and James died. Sirius knew that he didn't even have the guts to discuss it for a few more years. He was too close to the situation.

He then wondered if maybe it would have been best to let the Dursleys raise Harry. They certainly wouldn't have any problems discussing the murder.

Then again, considering how Petunia and Vernon saw Harry as a freak…

Sirius shook his head. It was too much to think about right now.

Sirius stared at the small house, rather amused. It looked as though rooms had been added on randomly from a reasonably stable base. He had a feeling that the house was being held up by magic; though he had never been to muggle school, Sirius knew that by the laws of physics, the Weasleys' house should have collapsed.

There was a lopsided, newly painted red sign that read "The burrow" near the stone pathway. The stones, however, were random sizes and completely nonlinear; Sirius' parents and the Dursleys would frown at such a mess. Some articles of clothing were piled up near the door, and Sirius saw that they were in a bucket for soaking.

"Well, Harry, this is the Weasleys' home," he said as they landed.

Harry threw off the cloak to get a better look. "Wow, neat!" he exclaimed. "Our house should be like that!"

_Yeah, and have the Dursleys literally throw us out,_ Sirius thought, trying to hide a grin.

"Be sure and tell them," he remarked instead. "I'm sure they'll appreciate your enthusiasm."

He scooped up the cloak and put it on the broom. At first, Sirius made as though to learn both against the barn, but then he decided against it and held onto them. He knocked, rather tentatively, on the door. Almost immediately, the door flung open.

"Welcome! Sirius, and Harry Potter, it's so nice to have you!" exclaimed a flushed, red haired woman with a blue checkered apron. "Come on inside."

"Mummy!" screamed a rather high-pitched voice. "George won't give me back my sock!"

"We need it for experimenting, Mum," another voice shouted, just as loud. "We'll give it back when we're done."

"It will probably smell better than, too," added another voice. The two snickered.

"Ron, Fred, and George, that's enough!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, hands on her hips. "We have _company_, and I would have expected you to behave better."

A minute later, four faces raced downstairs, peering at Harry. Three boys and one girl.

"Where's Percy?" questioned Mrs. Weasley, surveying her children.

"He's _reading_," replied Ron, as though it were the most boring thing in the world. "I think that it's just some book about goblin rebellions, but the twins claim it's about how to take over the world."

Fred and George covered their mouths with their hands, but Sirius could hear some snickers escape. Mrs. Weasley glared at them before turning back to Sirius.

"Children, this is Sirius Black and Harry Potter. Ron, why don't you go show Harry your room?"

"It's really neat, Harry," chirped Ron as they left the hallway. "I have posters and everything!"

"Ginny, you can go with them, if you like," Mrs. Weasley continued. "Or, if you'd rather, I can read you a picture book."

"Can Mr. Black read me one?" replied the little girl, smiling.

"Sirius," Sirius corrected, grimacing. "'Mr. Black' sounds like I'm an old neighbor or something."

"Sirius, then," replied Ginny, smiling.

"Why don't you ask him?" Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly. "You can show him your loose tooth."

"Sirius, can you read me a story?" Ginny recited.

"Sure. You're Ginny, right?"

She nodded. "Uh huh! Come on, let's go in the kitchen. All of my books are there," she explained, grabbing Sirius' arm and dragging him in. "Hurry up! You're going too slowly," she complained with a exasperated sigh.

Sirius heard Mrs. Weasley yelling at the twins as he was being dragged across the house.

". . .And don't you ever try to poison your brother's socks again!" she was threatening. "Your father and I have had it up to here with you, what will you do when you get to Hogwarts?!"

An hour later, Harry and Ron returned to the kitchen, hoping for a snack. Mrs. Weasley was knitting two sweaters at once by magic, and Sirius was reading a slightly thick book to Ginny. Occasional explosions sounded from Fred and George's room to confirm the twins' existence.

"'The witch ran over the dog. . .' Oh, hi, Harry. Ron." Sirius abruptly broke off his reading upon hearing the two pairs of footsteps.

Harry waved back cheerfully and ran into Sirius' arms for a hug; Ron was slightly more reserved.

"Hi," he said, walking up to Mrs. Weasley and tugging on her apron. "Mum?"

"Yes, dear?" she asked, searching for a magazine.

"Can Harry and I have some cookies and milk, please?"

"All right. Ask Fred and George if they want some too. Ginny?"

"Okay," she replied, eyes glued to the book as Ron's footsteps disappeared.

Harry stayed in front of Sirius, unwilling to join in.

"Harry, why don't you read with us?" Sirius suggested. "You can help Ginny sound out some of the words."

Harry took a seat next to Ginny. "Where are you at?" he asked.

"The witch just kicked the dog," Ginny explained somberly.

"Ginny's an animal lover," Mrs. Weasley clarified, smiling. "She even likes the garden gnomes, those mischievous creatures. Takes after her dad in that, I expect."

Suddenly, a loud crash came from directly above them. Sirius could have sworn he heard someone say, "Uh oh."

**Chapter 4. The Twins**

"'Uh oh'?!" demanded Mrs. Weasley, jumping up almost as soon as she heard the crash. "What on Earth is going on up there? Fred! George! Is that you?"

"I don't think it's Daddy, Mummy," Ginny replied calmly. "He's at work." To Sirius, she explained, "My daddy works at the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts in the Ministry of Magic. It is a very important job."

Sirius tried to look properly impressed.

"Hmph! Even your father's bizarre fascination with plugs and other strange muggle tools can not account for that crash," she replied, hassled. Then she shouted, "Fred! George! I'm coming up right now if you don't come down this instant!" Mrs. Weasley threatened, shaking her wand furiously.

"They're in T-R-O-U-B-L-E," Ginny whispered to Harry, looking alarmed. "I don't know what that spells, but Mummy uses it when she's really mad. And boy, is Mummy's really mad this time."

"Uh oh." Harry gulped and then cast a suspicious glance at Sirius as though asking, "Are you ever going to get that angry at me?"

Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder comfortingly as he shook his head. "You won't be too harsh with them, I hope?" Sirius asked, gently edging Harry further away from Ron's mum.

"This wand is for repairing whatever they crashed," Mrs. Weasley replied crisply. "Their father, on the other hand, will deal with them when he gets home; I'll just give them a good, solid piece of my mind."

Harry was now hiding behind Sirius' robes. Sirius scooped him up and tried to reassure him without Mrs. Weasley noticing.

"She's just angry," he whispered in Harry's ear. "Don't worry; she won't hurt them. Just yell at them until she loses her voice, I imagine."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Daddy only uses the tickle charms for really bad stuff. This is just kind of bad," she added in a hushed voice.

Harry remained unconvinced and cowered terribly under Mrs. Weasley's fierce gaze.

"Oh, I don't blame you, Harry, dear," she said, misinterpreting his uneasiness. "I know that you had nothing to do with the crash. . ."

Before she could say anything else, Fred and George appeared sheepishly in the doorway.

"Hi, Mum," said one of them.

"Mum, dear!" said the other, trying to grin.

"Fred. George," Mrs. Weasley replied through gritted teeth. "What was that crash?"

"Um, well you see. . .it was. . .you tell her, George," Fred muttered.

George shot his twin such a scathing look that Sirius nearly to burst into laughter.

"Well, Mum. . ." he trailed off, clearly losing his nerve. George eyed Fred who eyed him back with his hands folded. George proceeded to stare at the floor as though it were trying to tell him something.

Sirius couldn't help but feel sorry for the twins. Harry was practically trembling in his lap. Sirius gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze, wishing it was possible to communicate through his thoughts to Harry. He saw no means of escape from the situation. Mrs. Weasley had forgotten that Harry and Sirius were there, and he had no desire to call attention to this fact.

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasleys' eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"We, er. . . broke the vase," Fred muttered after a moment's pause, eyes downcast.

"You did what?!" Mrs. Weasley nearly shouted.

"Broke the vase?" replied George, not daring to look at his mum. "You know, the one with the flowers on the bottom."

"The ugly one," Fred muttered under his breath. "Too girlish."

"Girls have cooties," Ron agreed.

"Excuse me!! I am a girl," Ginny declared, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, but you're our sister. You don't count," George retorted.

"Boys! I believe we have a vase to attend to." Mrs. Weasleys' reaction surprised Sirius. Silence fell at once. "That's better. Now, where are the pieces?"

"Everywhere," was the unhelpful response. This time, both of the twins had spoken at once in nearly the same voice.

"See, it fell over the railing. . ." Fred started.

"And broke on the way down. . ." George recounted.

"All the way down. . ." Fred corrected.

"So the pieces scattered," George finished, now quite eager to tell the tale.

"A lot," Fred clarified, also looking cheerful.

"It went boom!" Ginny piped up, clapping her hands happily.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and decided to ignore Ginny's comment.

_Probably best if Molly acts as though she never heard it,_ Sirius thought, stealing a glance at the four year old.

She sat gleefully at the edge of her seat, watching the scene as though it were as interesting as a Muggle television program.

"Well, that does complicate things a bit, but it shouldn't be a huge problem," Mrs. Weasley was saying in a dismissive tone. "Now, you all stay out of the way while I gather them up and repair them. Nothing a simple summoning charm and repairing charm combined shouldn't do. I won't have you stepping in the pieces in the meantime, though."

Fred and George nodded, relieved that their punishment wasn't worse.

Mrs. Weasley, however, wasn't finished with them yet.

"No more explosions for the rest of this week, though. That should help you to learn to be more careful. Excuse me, Harry, dear. Sirius." She made her way through the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

Sirius tried not to look shocked that she remembered that he and Harry were still in the house. He cleared his throat loudly.

Fred and George exchanged high fives.

"We got off easy!" exclaimed Fred, reaching into the cookie jar and grabbing several. "Last time it was no more explosions, period."

"She's gotten easier over the years," George remarked in a sage tone. "Dreadful after our first explosion, wasn't she?"

"I thought it was because we mixed the contents with Ron's shampoo," Fred corrected.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Well, it does explain his freckles," laughed George. "I don't think we ever found the antidote."

Even Ginny couldn't quite manage to hide her snigger.

Ron glared at the twins and was about to speak when Sirius interrupted.

"Guess she's getting used to your bizarre hobbies, then," Sirius smiled, helping himself to an oatmeal raison cookie. "Once she found out what happened with the vase, I must say that your mum reacted rather well."

"She usually does, but then again, she can use magic at home and we can't," George pointed out, pouting. "So we have to tell her what happened instead of fixing it ourselves."

"The yelling's a pain, though." Fred shook his head as though disapproving of his mother's violent temper. "But it's a necessary evil."

"Quite," George agreed, "but I, for one, can't wait to learn about Muting Charms when I get to Hogwarts. The home will be so much nicer after I'm selectively deaf to everything Mum says," he explained, acting as though this made perfect sense to him.

"What about wandless magic before then?" Ron piped up, anger forgotten.

"That only works on things when you can't really help it, Ickle Ronniekins," Fred replied unhelpfully. "Like when we turned your teddy into a spider. Remember?"

The twins howled with laughter. Ron, Ginny, and Harry shuddered at the idea.

"Yeah, and it's thanks to you I've been scared of 'em ever since!" Ron retorted heatedly, taking a drink of his milk.

"If you had let us take the bear for experimenting, we wouldn't have had to do that," Fred replied with perfect seven year old logic.

Ron rolled his eyes. "At least Mum was able to turn it back," he grumbled. Then, turning to Harry, he added, "Never let them near your stuff!"

Sirius hid his laughter as a rather awkward cough. "So, Ron, how are your tonsils?"

Ron shrugged as he scratched his chin delicately. "Okay. I didn't feel much when the Healer shrunk 'em, and they were only a little sore afterwards. It wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, so far he hasn't had any relapses," George grinned maliciously. "No bleeding or anything. But they can happen sometimes."

"Yeah right." Ron rolled his eyes disdainfully.

"It's true, Ronniekins. I heard about it at the hospital from a little girl about your age. She had hers shrunk and everything went well. A few weeks later, there was nonstop bleeding and they finally had to silence her."

"S-silence her?" croaked Harry, trembling.

"Use a Muting Charm. Her screams were so loud. . ."

"GEORGE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley, suddenly appearing in the kitchen.

George turned as red as his hair. "Oh, hi, Mum."

He looked much less brave now that he was being yelled at.

"You know perfectly well that's not true! Scaring Ron, and in front of our guests! You should be ashamed of yourself."

George tried, and failed, to appear chastised. "Sorry, Mum."

"Go to your room," she hissed, pointing the way with a long, rather plump, finger. "Stay there until you understand why you shouldn't tease your brother."

George looked surprised that Mrs. Weasley was taking this kind of action, rather than merely making a threat, but meekly obeyed.

Perhaps it was because Sirius was present and Mrs. Weasley felt that she needed to set a good example.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Er, have you repaired the vase, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Call me Molly, Sirius. Yes, I had just finished it when I heard _them_ frightening poor Ron."

Sirius nodded and glanced down at Harry, who was still huddled against him, terrified. It was all he could do not to laugh.

"It's okay, Harry," he whispered once Mrs. Weas –Molly's back was turned. "Don't worry."

It didn't seem to help. His eyes looked pitiful and Harry shook his head in a frightened manner, tugged on Sirius' shirt, and begged quietly, "Can we please go home now, Sirius?"

Sirius then glanced at his muggle watch and saw that they had been at the Burrow for two and a half hours. He nodded shortly to Harry before speaking.

"It's, er, getting rather late. Harry and I should be going soon if we want to make it back before dark. Safer, and all," he clarified, remembering that they had ridden to the hospital on the new moon a few weeks ago.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" Molly inquired. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all. You could spend the night easily. Arthur could lend you some of his pajamas and Ron's would probably fit Harry quite easily."

Sirius smiled, but shook his head firmly. "No thanks. We'll meet again soon, though, surely?"

"Oh yes, of course." Molly's eyes gleamed. "Perhaps Diagon Alley, next time? Ginny wants to meet her friend Luna Lovegood there soon. It would be a nice outing for all of us."

"That might be best," Sirius agreed. "Come on, Harry."

Harry jumped out of Sirius' lap onto the floor, waved goodbye to Ginny, Fred, and Ron, and picked up Sirius' broom and the invisibility cloak.

"Can I drive?" he asked innocently and hopefully.

Sirius ruffled Harry's hair. "Not this time. You're a tad too small. Maybe we can practice a few tricks at a nearby forest, though," Sirius joked.

"Actually, there's a lovely patch of land nearby that the boys use for practicing," Molly spoke up. "They often use apples and such for the Quidditch balls. Charlie got most of his summer practice in that way."

Ginny nodded. "I can't wait until I can fly!" she declared, a bright smile revealing a set of white, even teeth. "Only seven more years, I think."

There was a strange look on Ginny's face that made Sirius suspect that she had already, or was going to, start practicing Quidditch on one of her brother's brooms.

Sirius guided Harry to the door, still dragging his Nimbus, as he waved goodbye to the Weasleys, thanking Molly for such a lovely time.

After all, for a first visit, it went well enough. It might even prevent Harry from misbehaving in the future. Not that it was possible for a Potter to avoid mischief at home and at Hogwarts for long, of course.


	9. Padfoot Meets Aunt Marge

**Aunt Marge**

A/N: This chapter tends to lean towards PG for violence and language.

**Aunt Marge Meets Padfoot**

It was a beautiful spring morning outside of Number Four, Privet Drive. Dudley and Harry were off for the Easter holidays, and Sirius had decided this would be a good time to start Harry on magical theory. Harry, unaware of this, was having a pleasant dream about flying apples and broomsticks. A heavy sleeper, it was not until the sounds of shouts and dishes prattling loudly reached his ears that his eyes popped open.

Harry was not a morning person, but Sirius was even more lazy. As Harry strained to listen to the argument, he could distinctly hear his godfather's voice among the commotion. His eyes wandered towards the clock next to his bed. It was only eight thirty. Whatever had gotten Sirius out of bed at this hour and yelling at the Dursleys would have to be likened to a natural disaster such as a tornado.

Smash. Another item crashed to the floor. Harry could hear Petunia's voice screaming, and he was sure it had been Sirius who had thrown the item. He groaned. Sirius always had somewhat of a temper whenever the Dursleys were concerned.

He deliberated for a few seconds before reaching for his glasses, and pulling the covers aside. Curiosity, a dangerous thing in the Dursley family, had taken a hold of him and Harry was determined to find out what could be causing this type of reaction on both parties.

Harry crept out of bed and walked to the banister, listening closely as he adjusted his glasses. All he could hear were shouts, occasional curses, various insults, and some screaming from eight-year-old Dudley.

A loud storming noise, and then Sirius barged up the stairs, nearly knocking Harry over.

"Sorry, puppy," he apologized, scooping up the small boy. "Those ruddy Dursleys, they really have done it this time…"

"Done what?" Harry asked, gazing into his godfather's angry eyes.

He knew, as he had known for years, that Sirius was often angry with his relatives, but rarely at Harry. If Harry ever saw Sirius in a bad mood, his first response was to blame Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He hated seeing Sirius angry.

Sirius didn't respond right away. Instead, he carried Harry back to his bedroom, and sat the young boy on the bed. Facing him, Sirius sighed heavily, several times, before speaking.

"Harry, I have some bad news," he grumbled.

"What's wrong?" Harry replied, voice quaking somewhat.

"I just found this out today. Had I known earlier, I would have tried to prevent it. Somehow," Sirius grumbled. "Your ruddy relatives enjoy making idiots out of themselves and everyone around them. 'Course, in this case they'd be the normal ones…see, Harry." Sirius paused. "Your uncle's sister has decided to pay a visit."

Harry wrinkled his nose. He had never actually met Aunt Marge, but if Sirius was making such a big deal about it, she must be awful. Sirius' assessments about people were usually right on, and Harry trusted his opinions completely.

"No way," he grumbled. "I hate her."

Sirius smiled slightly. "Thanks, puppy."

There was a long pause as the two tried to figure out how best to deal with the sticky situation. "What if we're not here when she comes?"

"We could, if it were just for a day," Sirius replied guardedly. "She's spending a few here."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "How many?"

Sirius coughed loudly and let out a number that sounded a lot like, "Four."

"Four?" Harry gasped, nearly wailing.

"Yeah." Sirius shuddered at the idea. "I hate it as much as you do. I saw her once, when you were about three years old. You probably don't remember her."

Harry shook his head. He had vague memories of a woman fatter than Dudley with hideous dogs that bit everything in sight, but it could have been a dream.

"She's a nightmare, the worst kind of relative to have. Fortunately, she's not related to you by blood, but it's enough to make even the best of families look sour. . ." Sirius cut himself off. "Anyway, we'll both have to spend some time around her. There's not much I can do. This isn't exactly cause to turn the Dursleys into toads, much as I'd like to do so. As for Marge. . .being a toad would greatly improve her appearance."

Harry laughed despite himself.

"Yes," Sirius continued, enjoying himself thoroughly. "Dudley's role model in weight, no doubt. At any rate, Harry, those pictures are five years old. I'm sure she's gotten worse. Uglier, both in face and in terms of temperament. You can't raise bulldogs without their personality getting to you. Believe me, I know."

"Your parents raised bulldogs?" Harry replied innocently.

"No, but. . . well, never mind. I doubt it will come to that, anyway."

Now was not the time to inform Harry that he was an animagus, but the time may come for that later during the visit. Sirius tried to bite back a laugh at the idea of himself in his enormous dog form, chasing Marge mercilessly into a swarm of bees.

It was a _very_ appealing picture.

"Try to behave and not get too angry when she insults your parents," Sirius warned. "We want to avoid wandless magic whenever possible, but around her, it's almost too much to expect." Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Hopefully, though, we'll both be able to manage the woman, if you can call her that, in very small doses."

Harry grumbled, "When does she arrive?"

"Marge comes in at 12:00 this afternoon."

"And they _just_ told you she was coming?" he asked innocently.

Somehow, Harry suspected Sirius was leaving parts of the story out.

But Sirius just nodded grimly. "I'm sure you heard the noise downstairs an hour ago? That was them telling me. . . and my reaction."

"It woke me up," Harry admitted.

Sirius sighed. "Get dressed and then come downstairs for breakfast. I'm going to have more words with your relatives…"

Harry obediently jumped off the bed, grabbed some clothes, and headed to the bathroom.

"Breakfast should be ready in a half hour," Sirius called from the hallway. "How's scrambled eggs and oatmeal?"

"Fine," Harry replied, shrugging.

He had more important things to worry about, judging by the conversation.

"Don't you dare let that disgusting boy near me!" shrieked Marge, letting her two large suitcases drop to the floor. A glass on a nearby table shattered by the sudden vibrations, or maybe it was just Aunt Marge's voice. "And get that man away from me! Vernon, your house has gone to the dogs."

_Quite literally,_ Sirius thought, choking back a laugh.

"A pleasure to see you again, Marge," he managed, extending a hand. "I don't believe we met last time, as Harry and I were at the park during your visit. I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."

She eyed him suspiciously, even though his appearance was normal enough. Vernon had forced him to wear some of his old clothes rather than "that wizard nonsense", and while the sweater and pants were a few sizes too big for Sirius, that was hardly his fault. His dark hair, though past his shoulders, was relatively neat and piled into a ponytail. He imagined that some females Marge's age might find him handsome.

Marge decided not to show such politeness. "A complete, utter _slob_," she informed him, pointing a large and beefy finger in Sirius' face. "Hardly compares in manners or in style to my dear Ripper."

Ripper the bulldog was currently chewing the leg of one kitchen table, making loud, contented, snorting noises.

"And this must be Harry Potter," she hissed, turning to the pale faced, messy haired eight-year-old who looked like he was facing a boggart. "Your hair, boy, is a mess. Your clothing does not match. Your bangs are sloppy. You haven't even the decency to overt your malignant eyes from my face!" she snapped, raising a hand as though to strike him.

Sirius stepped forward. "Not in my presence, Marjorie." He spoke coldly and very calmly; the combination was enough to make Marge takes several large steps backwards.

"Put away my suitcases, Black," she demanded. "Take the boy with you, if you must. I have gifts for my Dudders, my little angel, my popkin!" she crooned, picking up a large, white plastic bag that had been crammed with gifts.

Harry tried with all of his might not to appear envious. Sirius, noticing this, put a hand on his shoulder gently.

"He never flew on a broomstick before," Sirius whispered, and then added, "and you'll get one for yourself soon."

Harry cheered up considerably upon hearing this and tried to help Sirius carry one of the suitcases as they made their way upstairs. Once out of site, Sirius let forth several hideous descriptions, though without using any swear words (which he considered a great accomplishment) to describe Aunt Marge.

"That insolent git," he finished, feeling immensely satisfied. Then Sirius added, "Come on, we have to take these to my room. You take the smaller one."

"Why. . .?" Harry questioned, tugging on one of the handles.

"Because she can't sleep in the living room for four days. I cleared out my supplies earlier and took the cot into your room. I'm afraid we'll have to share one for the next few days," Sirius replied apologetically.

"Horror of horrors," Harry laughed. "Better you than her."

"Bet she snores." Sirius offered a loud imitation of Marge alternatively talking and snoring in her sleep. "And my beloved Ripper. . .zzzzz. . .Dudders, my dearest. . .zzzzz."

Harry folded his arms, trying not to smile. "Really, Sirius, _you're_ supposed to be the adult. Not me."

"Adult? What's that? I'm still, oh, 15 at heart," he retorted, letting the suitcase fall to the floor with a satisfying bang. "I might take care of you, but be an adult? Never!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're impossible," he declared, doing an impression of Petunia when she decided to glare at Harry for no reason. "Simply dreadful!"

Sirius applauded. "You're becoming quite good. Needs to be more nasally, though. More high pitched, too," he added. "Come on." Sirius gestured grandly towards the stairs. "The torture awaits us."

"Harry! Pass Ripper the tea," Marge demanded while piling her plate several feet high with Aunt Petunia's cakes and cookies. "Pour it directly from the teapot into his bowl."

"Marge, dear, do you really think that's a good idea?" Vernon asked, glancing at his wife nervously. "The china's very delicate and Harry has been known to spill in the past."

"Oh, let the boy learn the hard way," Marge replied carelessly, letting out a thundering belch. "When I was his age, I learned to feed starving wolves from the best silverware in the house, and I was bitten ten times a day, but not once did I let a drop of food spill," she boasted as Harry reached for the kettle.

Harry cautiously placed the tea into Ripper's worn saucer as the dog stared menacingly and hungrily at the young boy. Ripper growled angrily and Harry backed away as soon as the dog began to drink.

Unfortunately, Harry wasn't quick enough. Just as Ripper began to reach for the far side of the bowl, Harry accidentally stepped on his tail. It was hardly enough to hurt a large bulldog like Ripper, but the dog had long since learned that howling in pain and growling achieved great results.

Consequentially, Ripper began to growl and stared Harry down. Harry just had enough time to put down the tea saucer when he felt Ripper's teeth in his leg. Limping heavily, Harry ran as fast as possible from the dog, but Ripper was bred better for this task. Before Harry knew it, he was at the top of a large tree, shaking and trembling as the dog determined whether or not it was safe to attack.

Sirius watched this all from his window. He had delayed when the family went to set up the tea, and had been hiding all of this time. Once he saw Ripper attack his poor godson, however, he realized that it had been best to hide. Now was the time to transform and show the bulldog, and the nasty aunt while he was at it, the penalties of messing with his godson, Harry Potter.

Sirius transformed easily into his animagus form of a huge, black, straggly dog. He'd show Marjorie Dursley a thing or two about animal behavior…

He raced downstairs, making sure to knock over a few of the dining room chairs and to mark his territory in the living room as he made his way to the front door. It was locked, so Sirius used his paw to undo the doorknob, producing several large scratches where he worked, and finally managed to get outside.

Harry was bleeding from the leg and sitting terrified on the top of a large tree. Wandless magic. Ripper was barking at Harry severely and trying to get up the tree by his paws. The Dursleys, of course, were laughing hysterically.

_I don't think so, you prats,_ he thought as he ran towards the tree.

His form was twice the size of Ripper's, and his teeth were sharper. Within moments, the pathetic bulldog was cowering at the edge of the lawn, only bleeding a little. Marge was furious, and came to scold Sirius for being "such a bad dog."

She, in turn, received several loud barks and a few non fatal scratches that reduced her clothes to shreds, but left no mark on her body. Screaming and howling, she raced inside, trying to cover herself.

Sirius grinned in what an observer would consider a truly sadistic manner. He barked at Harry cheerfully, who cocked his head at Sirius as though wondering how such an event could take place. Sirius then realized that he had never actually told Harry that he was a recently registered animagus, and trotted off to the house. He'd need his wand to fix Harry's cut; that was for sure.

On his way in, Sirius bumped into an Aunt Marge in her undies, who screamed, batted at Sirius wildly, and raced into a closet. Sirius winced at the picture; no one should be forced to see something that ugly.

He ran into Harry's room, transformed, retrieved his wand, and hid it in his pockets. That was one advantage to wearing clothes several sizes too big. Sirius then got out his broom, flew out of the window, and helped Harry get onto it from the tree. The whole thing took about ten minutes, since Harry was hardly scared of heights, but terrified because of his leg.

"What are you going to do about it?" he moaned once they got into his bedroom.

There would be time for explanations later. Sirius needed to see the cut now. Before it became any worse. He didn't fancy taking Harry to St. Mungos or, worse, a Muggle hospital.

"Take off your pants, first, Harry. I want to inspect your cut before I do anything," Sirius commanded, trying not to let his near panic show.

Harry obeyed meekly, wincing as the legs of his pants brushed against the cut.

The bites were wide but shallow; there was no need to head to St. Mungos. Sirius had learned to heal these kinds of cuts (and worse) from Auror training. Painful as it must be for Harry, he was in no danger of dying.

"Stand still. I'm going to perform a disinfecting charm and then I'll bandage it up. It's going to hurt," he warned. A distant part of his mind was telling Sirius that he was being awfully harsh with Harry, both in tone and in his commands. He promptly told that part to shut up; he'd explain everything to his godson later. "Within a few minutes, though, you won't feel anything and the bandages can come off. It will look as though you've never been bit."

Harry nodded, trying not to whimper as Sirius pressed the wand to his cut and muttered the spell. He flinched a few times, though, during the disinfecting process. He seemed all right when the bandages came, at least.

"Better?" Sirius questioned, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder comfortingly. "Sorry for yelling, but this was urgent. There simply wasn't any time to waste."

Harry's face became peaceful as he, almost instinctively, settled against Sirius.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it doesn't hurt anymore," he replied. "When will I be able to walk?"

"Give it a few more minutes," Sirius promised, glancing as the bandages hardened. "Soon they'll fall off and you'll be good as new."

"Where did the dog come from? The big black one, I mean?" Harry questioned, tearing his eyes away from the bandages as he hid a yawn.

"Er, that was me," was the sheepish reply. "Some wizards and witches are able to, with a lot of studying and experience, become animagi. That is, they can turn into an animal at all. Your father, Peter, and I became them at Hogwarts when we were young. My form was a dog."

"Wow." Harry grinned, evidently in awe. "Would I be able to become one, too?"

"It's very tricky, and you should wait until you're an adult. It's safest then, and it's very complicated. Few end up trying," Sirius cautioned.

"Can you do it now?" Harry pleaded. "Please?"

Sirius laughed. "All right."

A few seconds later, a dog sat on Harry's bed. Harry reached out and cautiously pet it on the back. The dog stretched out and licked Harry's hand. Harry giggled and gave the dog a hug around the head. Sirius gave Harry a suffering, "The things I put up with for you" look.

"Let's see. What should I call you?" he pondered. "How about Snuffles?"

The dog transformed into Sirius again. "Snuffles?!" he squeaked.

"Yeah, you know, you snuff out trouble," was the explanation. "It's cute, too."

"Snuffles. Snuffles," Sirius mused, thinking out loud. "I used to be Padfoot to my friends, but I guess Snuffles would work. Just don't call my Scruffy."

"I promise, Scruffy," Harry replied automatically, dodging Sirius' tickle attack. "Sorry! I couldn't help it!"

"Oh, you better!" Sirius threatened, raising his hands as though to advance another tickle attack. "Or else I'll come up with a really embarrassing nickname and use it in front of all of your friends."

"What's wrong with Snitchy?" Harry replied, referring to the term that Sirius used to mean that Harry was his treasure. "Oh, is that why you call me puppy sometimes? Because you're a dog?" Realization dawned on Harry's face at this revelation. "That's cute."

"Yep. But they're not remotely humiliating enough," was the response. "Dudders gets called popkin and nettie poo, so maybe I'll call you pastry-face or froggie eyes."

"Ugh. That is bad," Harry admitted, turning green. "I'll be good and not call you Scruffy in public," he promised.

"And I'll be good and only call you Snitchy, or puppy, in public," was the wicked response. "Hey, your leg's better!"

Harry glanced at his leg as the bandages fell to the floor, grinning broadly. "Neat!" he exclaimed. Then he sighed. "Guess this means we'll have to see Aunt Marge again later."

"Not if I can help it." Sirius clenched his fists. "We'll find a way to avoid her, mark my words."

"Huh? Mark your words?" Harry questioned as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

"It's an expression," Sirius clarified. "Along the lines of, I promise you."

Harry nodded, still somewhat confused. "So, how will we avoid her?"

"I still have to figure out that part," Sirius admitted, face reddening.

Suddenly, he heard a huge shriek come from his room that Marge had invaded. Harry looked at Sirius quizzically.

"Wonder what that was?" he pondered, lifting himself onto the bed.

Sirius turned even redder. "Guess she discovered the warts I put on her," he replied, sheepish yet clearly proud of himself.

"Sirius!" Harry tried to look stern and failed miserably. "That wasn't very nice of you," he reprimanded, wagging his finger at his godfather.

Sirius scooped a protesting Harry up onto his lap. "Yeah, I know. That's the penalty for messing with my godson, puppy. Don't ever forget it."

Harry squirmed. "I'm too old for this," he complained.

"Who told you that?" Sirius prodded gently.

Pause. Then, "Dudley. And, well, aren't I too big?"

"Just because he's your cousin doesn't mean he is a bully," Sirius insisted, putting his arms around Harry's hands, marveling at how huge his were compared to his godson's. "In case you haven't noticed, he's about ten times your weight, and just a few inches taller than you are. As for being too big. . .if you mean physically, the answer is no, not really. If you mean too big as in too old. . ." Sirius paused, not wanting to baby Harry and suffocate him (like the Dursleys did with Dudley), yet also not wanting to push him away. He finally settled for, "That's your choice. Do what you want to do."

Harry leaned his head against Sirius' right arm. "Okay. How tall am I, anyway?" he wondered.

"You're three feet and four inches. I'm five feet and eleven inches," Sirius replied.

"Almost twice my size, then," Harry said after doing the math. "Two feet and seven inches taller. Were my mum and dad also small?"

"Your dad was about my size. Your mum was a little smaller." He could still remember them together. How Lily laughed at James' dumb jokes. How James would put an arm around her during their double dates (he always set Sirius up with someone horrible) when he thought no one was watching. How she would play with his hair, which always managed to get in James' eyes. Then, of course, they would kiss. . .

"Sirius!" Harry yelped. "You're hurting me!"

Sirius realized that his nails had just been digging into Harry's hands. How did that happen? He quickly removed them and made a mental note to cut them that night.

"Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to. I guess I was just thinking," Sirius apologized, wrapping Harry in somewhat of a backwards hug.

"'s' Okay," Harry replied, somewhat sleepily. It was already four o'clock, and getting chased by a giant bulldog certainly took up a lot of energy. "Sirius? Can I tell you something and not get in trouble?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Is it something bad?"

"Not really," Harry admitted. "It's about you."

_Well, better to know something bad than to spend your whole life wondering_, Sirius reasoned. Besides, what could an eight year old say that was so terrible? You smell? You're a Meanie-Head?

"Go ahead. I promise I won't punish you," Sirius prodded.

"I think you look more handsomer in your robes than in Uncle Vernon's clothes," Harry mumbled.

He laughed in reply. "Know what?"

"What?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"I think so, too," was the boastful response.

Harry broke into a fit of giggles over Sirius' response. "You're not mad?"

"Naw, why would I be? You told me that I was handsome, which I know but is always nice to be told. Adoring fans and all of that. In addition, you said that I'm more handsome in my regular clothes than Dursleys old rags. Also very true," Sirius replied in a serious tone, but with a twinkle in his eye.

"I think you're silly," Harry replied, adjusting his class while trying to hide a grin. "Even though most of what you said is true."

Sirius put his arms around Harry, hugging him tightly. Harry let out a sigh of contentment. "That's me. Your silly godfather."

"Yeah," he agreed, nestling against Sirius, eyes closing.

Within minutes, Harry was sound asleep. Sirius removed Harry's glasses from his eyes and propped them on the bedside table. Then, he tried to position himself against the pillows as he, too, began to start on his nap. His hand automatically brushed Harry's bangs out of his eyes.

Three hours later, Sirius woke up and discovered a rather large, warm, and very soft ball next to him. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the ball was Harry curled up. It was absolutely adorable. His hair was as messy as James' had been after a Quidditch match, and Harry's face was perfectly relaxed with a tint of pink coloring. Sirius smiled widely, found his disposable camera, and took a few pictures.

_Perfect embarrassment for when Harry begins dating_, he thought wickedly.

He had a feeling who his first date would be; a certain redhead who lived at the Burrow.

He then coaxed a sleeping Harry beneath the covers and set out to prepare dinner. Judging by the noise downstairs, Marge and the Dursleys were finishing theirs. After what happened earlier with Ripper, Sirius was not about to let Harry near that sadistic Marge.

_Then again, I enjoyed causing the warts and the humiliation of the exposure of her undershirt way too much,_ he admitted sheepishly to himself.

Sirius made his way downstairs, yawning somewhat, and decided to make Harry his favorite dinner to eat in bed. Later, they might be able to do some studying…Sirius wanted to teach Harry about Boggarts and Swelling Potions that night, if at all possible.

The kitchen was empty of Marjorie Dursley, and the others weren't much of a problem. Petunia looked as though she was trying not to laugh, but Vernon kept casting menacing glances at Sirius. Dudley was stuffing himself with chocolate cake and hadn't seemed to notice Sirius' appearance.

All in all, they hardly presented a problem to Sirius' concentration in preparing the meal. Of course, Lupin would argue that since Sirius was the world's worst cook, nothing could make his meals worse. Harry, however, never had any complaints, except when Sirius accidentally overdid the potatoes a few years ago to the point of putting them on fire. Even then, Harry had said, ever so politely and sweetly, "Sirius? I think I taste charcoal in these."

It was probably a good thing that Harry only saw Lupin several times a year. Otherwise, Moony would cause him to lose all respect for Sirius. It had been bad enough when the werewolf had mentioned offhandedly that Sirius and James had received more detentions during their seven years at Hogwarts than any other student throughout the school's history. While he certainly wanted Harry to continue the Potter tradition of being a troublemaker, he hoped that Harry would keep any trouble making to school and respect Sirius as a parental figure.

Then again, he could certainly imagine himself having loads of fun engaging in a prank war with Harry. . .

Sirius suddenly realized he was dangerously close to letting the steak and kidney pudding burn.

_Maybe Moony has a point after all,_ he thought, sheepish, as he tried to rescue the pudding from the flames.

"Harry? I brought you some dinner," Sirius called as he opened the door with his left hand. The right one was clinging onto a rather loaded tray.

_Probably made too much. Of course, we can always share,_ he thought, remembering that he hadn't eaten yet.

The lump in the bed shifted slightly. A messy, brown-haired head poked its way out from under the covers. A few seconds later, a pair of green eyes showed themselves.

"Mmm?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses.

"I made some dinner for us, Harry," Sirius repeated, putting the tray down next to Harry's table. "Are you hungry?"

Harry's stomach rumbled in reply. "I guess so," he grinned, propping his body against the pillows.

Sirius moved the small, clear table next to Harry's bed. Harry kicked off some of the covers and began to eat. Sirius' dark eyes twinkled gleefully.

"I have some pictures that I plan on using as blackmail," he teased.

"Oh?" Harry questioned between bites of the pudding, sounding mildly interested.

Sirius displayed the three pictures of Harry sleeping. "Think they'll be cute to display when you start dating in a few years," he teased. "Or would you rather have your girlfriend see the one of your first bath?"

Harry scrutinized the pictures. "You wouldn't really?" he asked, trying to determine if his godfather was joking or not.

"I might," was all Sirius would say before scooping up the pictures. "Depends how much trouble you get into at Hogwarts."

Harry folded his hands, pouting slightly. "I am not going to get into trouble at Hogwarts!" he declared. "I am very well behaved."

"That's my point," Sirius explained. "You don't get into enough trouble. Your dad and I were known throughout the school as being pranksters. We got detentions for it, of course, but it was fun. You're becoming too serious."

Harry looked confused. "So you want me to throw tantrums and stuff like Dudley?"

Sirius paused before replying. "No, but I wouldn't mind it if you turned his hair blue or something. By accident, of course."

Harry grinned, then suddenly turned serious at the implications. "You don't mean wandless magic, do you? I'm supposed to avoid that."

Sirius waved his hand. "Never mind. You'll understand more when you're at Hogwarts. Or when we visit Moony –er, Remus—next."

"Can Ron come, too?" Harry asked eagerly.

"We'll see." Sirius smiled wickedly. "Once we're finished eating, let's go spy on Marge. I put an Expansion Charm on her warts, and I'm dying to see how big they are by now. Should discourage that…woman…from ever messing with you again," Sirius finished.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Remind me never to make you angry," he replied solemnly.

Sirius threw a pillow at his godson in reply. Before long, a massive pillow fight broke out.

A/N: I have more material saved than I thought, so while I doubt I'll be doing daily updates, Harry will definitely reach Hogwarts by the time the last book comes out.

**Reviews: I love them and can't improve my writing, or know what my audience wants to see, without them. If you could just manage a sentence letting me know what you liked and what you want me to improve, it would make my day!**


	10. Harry's Birthday Party

Harry Potter was about to turn eight years old when Sirius Black came up with what he would claim for many years afterwards was one of his greater strikes of genius.

Harry Potter, years later, would agree with Sirius wholeheartedly when he told this story to people who had heard it many times before.

The Dursleys, much to Harry and Sirius' amazement, never found out about what Sirius called the Operation Birthday, but Petunia was skeptical about the pair of mysterious footprints on her kitchen floor after the Dursleys had returned from their trip.

Sirius and Harry had lived isolated from the muggle world for most of Harry's life. This was not a conscious choice by either party, but when Petunia encouraged Dudley to spread rumors throughout the school about Harry's hygiene, forbade any visitors who were not A) clients, B) friends of Dudley, C) her friends, or D) anyone suitable to happened to come by, there was little Sirius could do. Children were inclined to listen to Dudley, since he was larger and fatter than most of them, and the few who saw Harry as a normal kid couldn't interact with him very much outside of school. Of course, they were allowed to meet at the neighborhood park for picnics, and the child would often invite Harry over to _his_ house, but without reciprocation, parents were inclined to wonder.

Petunia Dursley had a reputation for gossip around the neighborhood, and this gave her power. She never lied about her neighbors, as far as they knew, so the neighbors had no reason to suspect when she talked about her good for nothing brother in law (as she called Sirius) and his rearing of her delinquent nephew. The neighbors knew, somewhat, about the lawsuit, but because it had occurred within the wizarding world, only the Daily Prophet had reported the news. The neighbors believed that there was some sort of custody dispute: as Petunia told it, Harry's parents died in a car accident one night and the police brought young Harry to their home. Months later, a mysterious man named Sirius demanded permission to be able to raise his nephew, but he was penniless and could not afford a house. Therefore, Petunia and Vernon had been most generous ("for the sake of the boy," Petunia would say) and allowed Sirius to remain in their house and care for his nephew. Petunia would then add, voice lowering ominously, that the stay was supposed to be temporary, until Sirius got a job and could properly provide for his nephew. The trouble was, this never occurred and Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley were forced with this shady man until…

Petunia never continued after the "until". Neighbors, at this point, turned sympathetic and offered whatever means of support they could offer. Would Sirius take money to leave on his own, or with Harry?

"No, he was too proud to accept charity," Petunia would sigh, looking flustered.

Why couldn't Sirius hold a job?

"He belonged to a dark and mysterious religion, not recognized as valid by England's government, and his practices often frightened his bosses," Petunia would answer, looking disgusted. How long would he be staying?

At this point, Petunia would sigh and say that she hoped that Harry would be able to provide for his uncle after he had finished school.

Sirius had heard portions of this story enough times to be able to piece together what neighbors said about him behind his back. It was rude and insulting, but laughable in a strange way. Sirius did not care what a bunch of muggles thought about him and his "mysterious religion" and although it might be lonely for Harry at the present time, he would go to Hogwarts shortly after he turned eleven, and then he would become as popular as his father.

One part of the story that puzzled Sirius was the insistence of a blood relation between himself and Harry. Sirius had seen his family tree, and he and James had been related very distantly before the Potters were burned off the family tree. Of course, Sirius realized that if the neighbors knew that Harry was his godson, this would imply his religion was not so out of place with the rest of the world. Therefore, the Dursleys clung to a blood relationship, though not on _their_ side (Sirius had been James' twin brother, according to Petunia). In this way, they could allow him to stay in their home, playing the martyrs, for the sake of Harry's sense of family.

It was in this way that Harry came to be seen as a victim in an unfortunate family relationship, tied to his father's will, and Sirius was viewed as a deranged madman who would not harm any of the neighbors, so long as he was left alone.

These stories made it immensely difficult for Harry to have normal birthday parties. There was no way that the Dursleys would allow magical folk into their homes, and few parents would allow their child to be placed in the extended care of a madman, regardless of how nice the children claimed he was.

Sirius had tried to keep his resent underfoot for the past six years, but as each birthday passed, it became harder. The Dursleys showered Dudley with all sorts of surprises, events that Harry and Sirius were not allowed to participate in. Last year, Dudley had gone to an amusement park with twenty children from school, and Sirius and Harry had been forced to retreat to Arabella Figg for the day. She spent much of the time showing Harry and Sirius pictures of her cats and trying to force leftovers down their throats. Harry had not complained, but Sirius knew that this exclusion had hurt, and he did not know how to relieve the pain or prevent the same from happening again.

Sirius had thought the situation over for several days before writing to Dumbledore and Remus about the problem. Remus offered them both his house the next time this happened, but Dumbledore's solution was more practical and, Sirius had to admit it, ingenious.

With the Ministry's permission, Sirius crafted a plan to get the Dursleys out of their hair for the week surrounding Harry's eighth birthday. They would win a dream vacation in a sweepstakes contest. Petunia entered these contests religiously, believing that any time she did not win a boat or item that she had no earthly use for, her chances for winning a larger prize would be multiplied. This time, she really would win a large prize, but that would be through magic.

Sirius believed that had Petunia known the reason behind her family winning a week long stay in Majorca, she would not have been as happy to go. Fortunately, leaving her in the dark while he accomplished this task was painfully easy. The person who drew the prizes was a wizard in disguise, named John Galwig, and he could easily enchant the entries to that, upon revealing the winner live on TV, every name would read "Petunia Dursley".

Afterwards, of course, Petunia's name would only exist on one sheet of paper, but only wizards who were trained at detecting magic would recognize this fraud.

Petunia would be none the wiser and would disappear with her arrogant husband and dreadful son for a week. During this time, Sirius would give Harry the best birthday party he had ever had.

Everything went according to the plan. Petunia did not suspect anything, but rather screamed giddily through her horse shaped mouth as the results of the draw were read. The tickets were for four people, so Petunia and Vernon told Dudley he could invite one of his friends on the trip. Dudley, of course, invited Piers, the head of a new gang they had started over the previous school year.

Sirius and Harry seemed invisible to the Dursleys as they went about their plans. Petunia decided that she had a lot of shopping to do to prepare for her trip, not only for herself but also for Dudley and Vernon. Dudley needed, among other things, a new swimsuit. He seemed to be growing fatter faster than ever these days, and the one Petunia bought him the previous summer no longer fit. (It was, however, at least five sizes too big for Harry.) She then decided that they would need fancy clothes for dining out, and she had to buy new jewelry to show off to "the natives". Sirius found himself wondering if Petunia realized she was spending the money she had saved on a free trip to buy unnecessary items in preparation for it.

They were, of course, unnecessary. Petunia's jewelry collection was extensive, and she had more clothes than his mother. Sirius doubted that he had ever seen her in the same outfit twice. She enforced these values upon Vernon, claiming that because he was the breadwinner in the family, it was his job to look twice as good as anyone else in the firm. Privately, Sirius thought that this was a near impossible challenge given how ugly Vernon looked, but he never voiced his opinion out loud.

During the week before the Dursleys left on their trip, Sirius and Harry entertained themselves by doing impressions of them and spying on them as they tried to determine what to pack and what magazines to read. Petunia had the idea that the people of Majorca were primitive, generally did not speak English, and performed animal sacrifices on a regular basis.

Given the lies about Sirius' mysterious religion, he was somewhat surprised that none of the neighbors suggested he accompany the Dursleys on their trip.

He was sure that no one had suggested such a thing because it would have put Petunia out considerably. He had seen her mad, once, and his ears had never been quite the same afterwards.

The Dursleys had reluctantly given Sirius and Harry permission to remain at number four, Privet Drive, while they went on vacation. Had it just been Harry, Sirius had no doubt that the Dursleys would send him to Mrs. Figg's house for the week. As it was, they certainly considered this, but decided against it. Mrs. Figg babysitting Harry would seem normal, but neighbors would talk if she was there with Sirius. The Dursleys, preferring to think of themselves as unfortunate victims, were not about to start the circulation of rumors suggesting any romantic goings on between Sirius and their neighbor.

Mrs. Figg was, however, supposed to check in daily to make sure the house was still standing and Harry was alive.

Vernon had explained this for the tenth time to Sirius when the younger man felt like he was about to lose his temper. He was not a dimwit, like _their_ son; he had received top marks at Hogwarts and could follow instructions. Besides, once Vernon was gone, Sirius planned to ignore everything he had been told and use magic to clean up whatever might result. It might be that Vernon realized this, and this was why he repeated the instructions so loudly and clearly the last time.

Trying hard to control his temper, Sirius forced a smile at the obese muggle and wished him a good trip.

Vernon growled in reply and told Sirius that he and Harry better start taking their luggage into the car, or else they would miss their flight.

Normally, Sirius would never have submitted to such behavior, especially when the order was aimed at his godson as well as him, but Sirius was not too keen on the prospect of the Dursleys missing their flight. The trip had, after all, been his way to get the Dursleys away from Harry so that he could have a normal birthday party. As soon as he was gone, the planning could start, and it would be nearly impossible to do so if the ruddy Dursleys missed their flight.

Sirius had talked to Mrs. Weasley about the idea, and she had been enthusiastic, but Sirius had been rather silent on the matter to Harry. Harry knew, of course, that Sirius had something special planned for his birthday (aside from the usual day with him doing a fun activity), and he knew that Sirius had planned to have the Dursleys away at this time, but he didn't know more than that. Sirius didn't want it to be a surprise party, but he felt that Harry would be less tempted to spill incriminating information if he did not have much information to spill.

As soon as the Dursleys left Sirius and Harry alone, Sirius could keep the secret no longer. He had a wild grin on his face as he turned to Harry, looking so excited that he nearly frightened the poor boy.

"They're gone!" he announced, giving an overdramatic sigh of relief.

"Yay!" Harry responded. "What do you want to do first?" He looked around the kitchen. "We could sit on the couch with our shoes on!" he suggested with a broad grin.

Sirius smiled at the signs of mischief making in his godson. It was taking awhile, but Harry was starting to have his father's knack for trouble.

"My evil puppy," Sirius cooed as he messed up Harry's hair. "I'm so proud."

Harry wrinkled his nose, a habit he had picked up from Petunia. "Well, can we?"

Sirius scooped the boy up and placed him on his back. "First, we need to have an important talk."

_Uh oh_, thought Harry. Had Sirius noticed that Harry hadn't eaten all of his carrots earlier at lunch?

"What kind of talk?" Harry asked, grabbing hold of Sirius' shoulders. Whatever it was, it couldn't be too bad. He loved this game (they called it horsie) and Sirius wouldn't have initiated it if Harry was in some kind of serious trouble.

Sirius didn't respond until they got to Harry's room. Sirius dropped Harry off on the bed and then plopped down next to him.

"You're getting big!" Sirius laughed. "My puppy's on his way to becoming a dog."

Harry smiled. "Soon I'll be bigger than you!"

"Not a chance." Sirius became the tickle monster. "It's a law," he explain, amidst Harry's laughter. "The godson has to remain smaller than the godfather. Otherwise, really bad things will happen."

With that, he ended the tickling. Harry kept giggling and squirming for a few more minutes before fully catching his breath.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" he asked finally, stretching his body out on the bed and holding his head up with his hands.

"Your birthday," Sirius replied, grinning like mad.

"What are we going to do this year?" Harry asked. "I'll be eight…that's really big. That's _much_ older than six or seven." He thought for a minute. "Can we go on a really, really scary roller coaster? Pleeeease?"

Sirius reluctantly shook his head. "You're still pretty small for most of them, puppy."

Harry narrowed his eyebrows. "I am not!" he declared, folding his arms.

"Just a little. Maybe next year? But look," he added quickly, lest Harry should grow upset, "I have a really great idea about what to do for your birthday this year."

Harry perked up after hearing this. "What?"

"How would you like to have a party? All of your friends can come over and we can play magical games, eat cake that never disappears, and do all kinds of fun stuff!"

"You mean have Ron and his brothers over?" Harry asked, face brightening.

"Yes, the Weasleys, and some of the other people you've met in the wizarding world. I bet Ginny would love it if you invited Luna over…and then there's Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom. You'd have a lot of fun and you wouldn't be spending it with just me."

"I _like_ spending it with you," Harry protested.

"I know that, silly, and we can do that as well. But you'll be off to Hogwarts in a few years and it would be good if you made friends with some kids your own age. Dudley has friends over for his birthday—don't forget," he added.

Harry sighed. "I don't want girls over."

"Why not?" Sirius asked, not expecting this.

"Ginny's a baby," Harry complained. "Besides, girls are doodie heads."

It took an enormous amount of self control for Sirius not to break down into laughter. "Why do you say this, puppy?"

"Because it's true! At school, we never let the girls play with us. They just want to play with _dolls_," Harry explained. "They say we have cooties and scream if someone gets too close."

Sirius wondered what "too close" meant. He had never been to muggle school, but he remembered hearing a few years ago that Dudley had a girlfriend and they were going to get married as soon as he got a job.

Did Harry have a secret girlfriend at muggle school?

Probably not. At least, Sirius hoped not. James had been enough of a nuisance when he fell for Lily Evans, and Sirius did not want to go through something similar to that with Harry. Granted, Sirius doubted that Harry would go through James' arrogant stage, but he had enough to think about without listening to Harry's lamenting over some girl.

Sirius focused on the issue at hand. It seemed like a reasonable request. This was, after all, his first real party and he should have some say over the guest list. It wasn't like Harry wanted to invite Lucius Malfoy, after all.

"Okay," Sirius conceded. "No girls."

"Yippee!" Harry shouted, a wide smile brightening his face.

"Now, which boys do you want?"

"Ron," Harry replied, as though this was obvious. "Umm…Uncle Remus. Neville. Blaise. Eric and Colin," he added, listing the two brothers who were twins. "John. Tom."

Sirius summoned a piece of paper and a quill to write the names down. "Anyone else?"

"How many can I have?" replied Harry, chewing his lip.

"Just give me the names and we can go from there." Sirius was not anxious to have more than fifteen, but if Remus could come, then that would be an extra hand…besides, Sirius was not one to quibble over details when it came to Harry.

"Charles, Josh, Anthony, David, and Peter," Harry finished.

"Josh Windermere or Josh Alberton?" Sirius questioned.

"Um, both?" Harry asked hopefully.

Sirius scribbled the last of the names down, then counted them up. "That's fifteen total, including you, me, and Remus. That should be fine." He gave Harry a peck on the head. "While you take your nap, I'm going to get out the invitations and send them by owl to everyone."

"Will it be on the 31st?" asked Harry.

"Yes why do you ask…oh!" Sirius nearly tripped as he left the bed. "That's only three days away."

Harry's face turned pale. "Do you think they'll come?"

"I'm sure they will," Sirius replied, forcing a smile. "You're Harry Potter, after all."

As soon as he said that, he wished he hadn't. He didn't want to tell Harry about Voldemort then and there.

Fortunately, Harry took this to mean that his friends liked him and would make every effort to come to his party. He turned over on his side and yawned. "Night, Sirius," he said, closing his eyes.

"Night, puppy." Sirius smiled as he left the room, but then wondered, briefly, if he should put some kind of a hex on the invitations so that whoever did not show up would find themselves with a very itchy skin condition the next day.

Sirius decided against it. If anything, he should make it so that the parents received the skin condition. Kids never said no to parties.

The day before the party, Sirius got all of the response owls. A few kids couldn't come (but sent gifts anyway) but most of them were eager to attend. Remus, of course, was happy to supervise/attend Harry's eighth birthday party, and arrived that night to help Sirius prepare the house for the invasion of young wizards.

Remus arrived by Apparating into the Dursley's home, holding a large suitcase in one hand and a large bag in the other.

Harry heard the _pop_ and ran to the front of the house to greet him. Sirius, who had been blowing up balloons manually, followed Harry, completely out of breath.

"Uncle Remus!" Harry shouted, nearly knocking him over with a hug. "You're here!"

Remus laughed and put down his bags before returning the hug. "Happy almost birthday, Harry!"

Harry nearly suffocated him in response. Sirius, just having reached the front of the house, nearly snorted with laughter.

"Someone's popular, Moony," he laughed, reaching out to hug his best friend.

"You're squooshing me, Sirius!" came Harry's voice from under Sirius' arms.

"Yes, Sirius, we mustn't kill the birthday boy," Moony admonished, smiling. He let go of Sirius and scooped Harry up in his arms, and almost winced. "You're getting to be big!"

"I'm going to be as big as Sirius," Harry announced proudly. "I grew three inches this year!"

"My, my, three inches! Sirius, what are you going to do about that? He's going to be a giant!" Moony replied.

"I know," Sirius sighed. "We're starting him on shrinking charms next week. I can't have my godson growing up to be taller than me."

Harry giggled. "Come see my room, Uncle Remus!" he pleaded, grabbing hold of one of Remus' arms as he started to climb the stairs. "Did you get me anything?"

"Harry!" Sirius tried, but failed, to be firm. "That's not very polite."

Harry made a face at his godfather. "You said everyone would because I'd be eight tomorrow!"

Sirius sighed. Now was not the time to call attention to Remus' diminished financial circumstances since Dolores Umbridge's recent appointment to the Ministry.

"I did get you something, Harry," Moony laughed. "But you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what it is."

"Just a tiny peek?" Harry asked as he flung his door open. "Pleeeeease?"

"Nope. You'll have to wait until tomorrow," Remus laughed. "You'll get it when you get all of your other presents." He looked around the room. "It's much bigger than I remembered."

Sirius grinned evilly. "Magic, dear Moony. Increases the inside of the room as Harry grows."

Moony laughed. "Don't the Dursleys suspect anything?"

"'Course not!" Harry interrupted. "They never go here."

Sirius nodded. "Puppy's right. As far as they know, the room has remained the same since I've arrived…with the addition of toys and such."

Moony just looked around in astonishment. He had seen Harry's room before, once, and it was only a little bigger than the cupboard he had been forced to sleep in. Initially, the room served as a second bedroom for Dudley, and Sirius supposed that the Dursleys felt it was acceptable to give their son a small second bedroom when his other was so large. Of course, Sirius' guestroom hadn't been much larger than Harry's bedroom, so perhaps that was the way it was with muggle houses…

Now, however, Harry's room easily occupied the space of what would be his shared dormitory at Hogwarts. Although Sirius had never taken exact measurements, he was fairly confident that it was at least three times the size of Dudley's room.

Of course, the Expansion charm he used had been gradual. Harry didn't need as much space at age two, for instance, as he would at age ten. The room would grow slowly so that if the Dursleys did come by, they'd never actually notice a difference. Over time, of course, the room would feel bigger, but they were so paranoid of magic that they would tell themselves that they had simply forgotten the size of the room before.

Now, however, it would be difficult to explain why Harry's room was _larger_ than Dudley's should they drop by. Fortunately, the chances of that were slim.

Remus took a seat on a large jean chair Sirius had recently purchased. "I must say, you spoil him," he laughed, motioning for Harry to sit on his lap.

"Of course. It's my duty as his godfather," Sirius replied, mock hurt. "Although at the rate Dudley's growing, the Dursleys might secretly wish they had magic to increase the size of _his_ room."

"Dudley's huge," Harry translated as he played with the sleeve of Remus' brown robes. "He's gonna explode soon."

Remus cast a nervous glance at Sirius, as if to question the validity of Harry's statement.

Sirius nodded in response. "Maybe not _explode_, but he'll be Vernon's size before he's nearly his height, if you get my meaning."

Remus sighed. "That poor boy."

"He's not poor!" Harry protested. "He gets to eat at least forty donuts a day! And two HUGE boxes of ice cream!"

It was an exaggeration, but not by much.

"Believe me, puppy, it's not worth it. He'll be very ill before he's Sirius' age," Moony replied. "He'll probably die early unless his parents do something about it."

"No chance," Harry and Sirius replied together.

They pondered over this for a few minutes and then Sirius rose from Harry's bed. "Come on, Moony. We still have a lot to do before Harry's big day tomorrow."

Harry jumped out of Remus' lap. "I want to help!" he declared.

Sirius and Remus exchanged evil glances. "Harry, you can blow up the balloons," Sirius replied sweetly.

The goal in this, of course, was to tire out the overexcited seven year old so that they could surprise him with some of the more magical decorations after he had fallen asleep. The joke, however, was on them. Harry's lungs must have been stronger than Sirius' because he easily blew up the remaining twenty balloons and was disappointed when there were no more left.

Feeling thwarted, Sirius let Harry help him with the rest of the decorations, including some that he had hoped to save for the next day (the self removing magical chairs, the plate that make the birthday cake remain whole no matter how many slices were consumed, and the self greeting wreath to let them know who was next on their way, to name a few). After this was taken care of, Sirius fixed dinner for the three of them.

Remus entered the kitchen to get a drink of water when he noticed Sirius was wearing Petunia's apron.

"Merlin, you look ridiculous," the werewolf chortled. "Has Harry seen you like that?"

Sirius reddened. "Once or twice."

"You look like my mum…"

Sirius threw a pan at Remus, who easily dodged. "Shut up, Moony."

Remus was having far too good of a time to do so. "Do you have a camera? Harry needs a picture of this."

"Second drawer in my room," Sirius grumbled. "Is Harry in on this?"

"No, but if I know you, there are embarrassing pictures of him that you plan to use as blackmail someday. This evens the score."

Then the werewolf disappeared with a popping sound. Sirius tried to frown as he went back to the cooking, but found himself unable to keep a straight face.

After a rather quick dinner, Sirius was anxious to get Harry to bed so that he could start wrapping his birthday presents. Harry, however, was anxious to point out that he was nearly eight, not two, and eight year olds did not go to bed at 7:00.

"The sun's still out," Harry complained, looking out the window.

"Puppy, aren't you tired at all?" Sirius tried. He didn't want to yell, not right before Harry's birthday, but that kid sometimes had so much energy that Sirius could swear he has swallowed a bottle of Energy Boosting potion (used mostly with new mothers and, illegally, by students studying for OWLs and NEWTs).

Sirius turned to Remus, silently begging for reinforcement. Moony nodded wordlessly.

"Harry, how about you and I play wizard's chess before you turn in?" Remus tried, walking towards the Dursleys' living room with Harry.

Harry sighed. "That's no fun. You always beat me."

It was true. Remus was not particularly skilled at the game, but it was not exactly difficult to win against Harry. In spite of the rules, Harry viewed his knights and pawns as the most important pieces, so he never bothered to guard the king and queen. His pieces were most reluctant to trust him.

"I won't beat you this time," Remus promised, hoping that this was possible to do.

Harry scowled. "I don't want you to _let_ me win," he grumbled.

"Well, what if you listen to your pieces and use their strategy?" Remus suggested gently. "They might be able to help you win."

"Then _they're_ letting me win," protested the almost eight year old.

"Not so. Mine give me advice. It's a necessary part of the game. Besides, they don't always give the best move hint, so even though they're helpful, they won't play the game for you."

Harry sighed. "Oh, all right," he grumbled.

Remus retrieved the board and Sirius' set of pieces, having gotten rid of his years ago. He was not entirely fond of the game—too gory for his tastes, even if the players healed themselves by the end of the game—but Sirius had bought the set for Harry for his seventh birthday in the hopes of exposing his godson to some aspects of the wizarding world. Remus was willing to bet that Molly Weasley had something to do with this because Ron received a set when he was only six. Ron must have taught Harry the basics because the boy knew the rules when Sirius gave him his set of pieces, but Ron showed more signs of skill than Harry. Remus had visited the Weasleys on a few occasions and played with Ron—the boy easily beat him on the first game, and Remus had only barely won the second and third games.

Sirius had told Remus about Harry's decision to exclude girls from his birthday party. Remus had been quite amused at Sirius' concern. Didn't he remember when girls were annoying and far too prissy? Of course, Remus remembered that he only had one older sister, Lucy, who had been nearly ten years older than him. Certainly she had been prissy when Remus was young—it was about that time she had shown interest in Eric Torgacan, the male prefect in the Ravenclaw tower. Remus' parents claimed that she had been crazy about him, but years later she denied it, insisting haughtily that she recalled no such man. Lucy was now in her mid thirties, married to one of the most arrogant and boring men Remus had ever laid eyes on, and had twin sons who were about to turn two.

_I should send them a card,_ Remus reminded himself as his bishop took out Harry's castle.

Not that it had mattered. Lucy had never been close with him, exacerbated by the fact she had always looked down on him for being a werewolf. Lucy moved out when she was nineteen, so Remus only had to deal with her condescension for just under four years, but it certainly helped to prepare him for the way many wizards would view werewolves. He felt certain that their relationship had hit a dead end after he had been bitten, and no card would change that. His parents had tried not to show favorites outright, but it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that they preferred quiet, hardworking, well behaved Remus the werewolf to snippy, haughty, and arrogant Lucy the oldest.

"Check," Remus warned as he trapped Harry's king with his knight.

Harry frowned, tried to listen to the conflicting opinions of the players on the board, and finally moved the king to the right, next to the queen.

"Check," Remus repeated, moving his bishop into trapping position.

Harry scowled and moved the king in front of the queen. "Stop that," he groused.

"That's wizard chess, boy!" shouted one of his pawns.

Harry glared at the game piece. "I should let him take _you_ next!" he threatened.

The pawn scoffed for a moment before deciding it was wisest to remain silent. His pieces knew that Harry would sacrifice them last, even at the expense of his king (once, he saved all of his pawns but still managed to lose the game), and they were quite happy to be appreciated. Even if they deemed the player incompetent, it didn't matter as much if _they_ got to live longer because of it.

Five moves later, Harry was in checkmate position. Remus' queen attacked the king vindictively and then did a little victory dance. The other pieces followed suite. Harry's players grumbled and muttered under their breaths, but it seemed to Remus that they had fully expected this defeat.

"Time for bed," Remus announced, gathering up all of the pieces and putting them back in the box, much to their dismay. "You have a big day tomorrow."

"Can you read me a story, first?" asked Harry, getting up from the table.

Remus checked the clock. It was only 7:45. Surely Sirius would let Harry stay up past 8:30 (his former bedtime) the night before his birthday? Remus knew the routine fairly well, having babysat the boy before, and it would be 9:00 by the time Harry finished getting ready for bed and hearing the story.

"Get ready for bed first," Remus instructed, smiling. "I'll be in the kitchen with Sirius. Once you've had your bath, brushed your teeth, and put on your pajamas, come and find me and I'll read you a story."

"Any story?" Harry prodded. He had some fairy tales that were at least thirty pages.

"We'll decide once you're in bed," Remus promised. "Now, off you go!"

Harry nodded and raced upstairs to the bathroom. He was determined to be as fast as possible—it meant more reading time. He knew Remus well enough to know that the longer it took Harry to get ready for bed, the less time he allotted for a bedtime story. Given that the next day would be his birthday, maybe he could persuade Remus to read him two stories that night…

Sirius usually had the honors, but whenever Remus visited, he took over. This was never a problem except when Remus would want to read a story Sirius had read recently. Then, Harry would always complain about some detail, such as the voices not being right. With older stories, or stories Harry had never heard before, there was nothing to compare them to, so however Remus read them would be considered the "right" way.

During the time it took Harry to take a bath, brush his teeth, and put on his pajamas (white with panda bears on them), Sirius and Remus finished getting all of the birthday decorations together, and Sirius had begun to wrap Harry's large pile of gifts.

"I think it's time that he had his own broom," Sirius was telling Remus. "He's wanted one for some time and eight years old is a good age to start."

"It's not a real broom, is it?" Remus asked. "It has safety features and all of that?"

"Of course, Moony, do you think I'm an idiot? The broom won't go more than two meters in the air and goes about the speed of a muggle bicycle. The broom also has charms that prevent falling!" Sirius replied, hands folded. "I don't want to kill my own godson!"

Remus laughed and opened a bag of enchanted party poppers. "I was just checking, Padfoot. Are you going to let him ride it himself or will you want to give him lessons?"

Sirius shook his head. "He's been on my broom before, sometimes in the front and steering it. Harry's really very good, exceptionally so for someone his age. I don't think the safety features are really all that necessary, but I think it would be unwise to start Harry on a Nimbus 1500."

The Nimbus 1500 was the latest broom model. Remus had never used one, but he heard that it could travel faster than most muggle cars, and responded to the slightest directions. Bright green with a red handle, it was surely a sight to behold.

It was also extremely costly. At Remus' highest paying job, it would have taken a month's pay to buy the broom. Right now, he knew that where he worked at the Ministry (assistant to Arthur Weasley in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department), it would take well over a year's pay.

Still, Remus was grateful to have a job, even if the wages were miniscule and the hours were erratic. He often wondered how Mr. Weasley managed to support his family with such an underappreciated position. _Remus_ had no choice, but Mr. Weasley was smart, talented, and exceptionally hard working. He could certainly have his pick of positions, and it was only his love for muggles that kept him at this low level job.

"Uncle Remus." A small figure stood in the doorway, holding a very thick book of fairy tales. "I'm ready."

Remus nearly groaned when he saw the book. He had read from it before, and every story was incredibly long. It might take an hour to get through one, and Remus would need to use a Voice Restoring potion—which tasted particularly nasty—if he wanted to be of any use the next day.

"Coming, puppy," he replied.

Sirius caught Remus' look of doom (as he called it), and approached Harry. "Puppy, you know how long these stories are. Why don't you choose a shorter story? You want Uncle Remus to be able to help at your party tomorrow. If he reads one of these, you'll both be up until the party starts."

Harry let out a long sigh. "Oh, all right." He turned to Remus. "Are you coming?" he asked hopefully.

"I probably should," Remus laughed, picking up the small boy.

"Give me a hug and kiss goodnight first," Sirius requested, mock serious. "Otherwise you might not have any gifts tomorrow!"

Harry gasped and jumped down from Remus' arms. "Don't say something so awful!" he reprimanded as he nearly squeezed Sirius to death as only a child could.

Sirius laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Okay, off you go. Both of you. Sweet dreams, almost birthday boy!"

"Good night!" Harry replied, grinning and reluctantly releasing his godfather. He turned to Remus. "Now, let's find a good story…"

Harry woke up extremely early the next morning. He raced into Sirius' room, where Remus was sleeping, and woke his godfather up by jumping on the bed.

"I'm eight years old!" he announced loudly.

Sirius groaned. "It's too early. Go back to bed."

"But Sirius, I'm EIGHT years old!" Harry announced, pulling off one of the blankets.

"And if you want to live to be nine, you'll let me sleep," Sirius growled, reaching for the blanket and missing. "Happy birthday, Harry, but please, I need sleep or else I'll be really crabby today."

"You _are_ crabby," Harry replied, folding his arms. He checked the clock, then looked outside. "The sun's out."

"The sun may be up, but it's not alive. Listen—not even the birds are up yet. Please, Harry, just let me go back to bed."

Harry jumped off the bed and turned to Remus, but realized that if Sirius had been hard to wake up, it was nothing compared to his favorite uncle. Remus was snoring, loudly, and was completely covered by blankets. It seemed astonishing that the snores would be this audible under so many layers, but they were. Only pieces of hair remained visible.

Harry realized then that he was fighting a losing battle. He yawned, and then decided that he might as well go back to bed, if his godfather and uncle were going to act so lazy.

When Harry awoke again, it was by Sirius gently shaking him.

"Mmugh," came the eight year old. "Goway."

Sirius laughed evilly. "Time to get up, puppy. Happy birthday! Come on…let's open presents and have breakfast. Your friends will be here soon."

Harry opened his eyes groggily. "Mmph," he replied, pulling the covers over his head.

Sirius turned to Remus, who had just finished getting dressed after taking a long shower. He smiled as he approached Harry and performed a tickling hex.

Loud giggles could be heard several houses down the street. Harry squirmed under the blankets and finally kicked them off. Remus silently removed the hex and Harry sat up, trying to glare at him, but was too amused to look very angry.

"Up!" Sirius shouted, picking Harry up from his bed. "Time for breakfast."

"I thought it was time for presents?" Harry asked as Sirius carried him downstairs. A bemused Remus followed a few steps behind.

"You can do both at once," Sirius replied. "I made all of your favorites since it's such an important day." He mussed up Harry's hair as he said this.

"Pancakes?" asked a wide eyed boy. They were his favorite healthy food in the world, when Sirius got them right, but Sirius was forever burning them or undercooking them. He'd have to make ten just to have two that were edible, and that was on a good day.

"Yup. Remus showed me a way to get them not to burn," Sirius replied, grinning broadly. "Much better than that stuff your aunt uses."

Harry took a seat at the table. His chair was filled with green and red balloons (his favorite colors) and several gifts were stacked on the table beside his empty plate. In front of the plate lay a large box of donuts. Harry licked his lips in anticipation.

Sirius went to work making the pancakes, and as he did so, Harry and Remus munched on blackberries happily. Before long, the pancakes were done and on all of their plates. Harry was soon so busy enjoying his that he almost forgot about the gifts on the table. That is, until Remus reminded him.

"Happy birthday, Harry," he said, giving the small boy a hug. He turned to the gifts on the table, eyeing them significantly.

"Oh!" Harry finished the late bite of pancakes and then grabbed one of the smaller gifts.

"That's one of mine," Sirius grinned as Harry tore apart the wrapping paper.

"Chocolate frogs!" Harry announced once he saw the drawing on the cover. Although Harry had never cared much for the cards, they had long since been his favorite candy. The box Sirius had purchased through the wizarding catalog contained twenty-five small frogs, easily a month's supply. "Thanks, Sirius!" He looked at his godfather hopefully. "Can I?"

"Of course," Sirius grinned.

Harry reached into the box and retrieved three. Immediately, he handed one to Remus and one to Sirius. Sirius, who hadn't anticipated this act of sharing on a day meant to be wholly Harry's, nearly teared up.

"Thanks, puppy," he said, unwrapping it and taking a bite.

But Harry had put the box aside, including his own frog, and was eyeing some of the other presents. Finally, he chose one not much bigger than the frogs, but oddly shaped. He opened it carefully, lest he break it in his haste

It spun around and lit up. Sirius, seeing Harry's confused look, explained. "It's a sneakascope. It makes noises if someone's doing something untrustworthy. I thought it would be good to use while we were playing games."

Harry laughed. Sirius always cheated, but Harry could never catch him in the act. This might make things easier, and it would annoy the Dursleys to no end.

The next gift was slightly smaller than the sneakascope, but no less amusing. Sirius had given him a pack of Exploding Snap cards, an item that Harry had seen at the Weasleys but Sirius deemed too dangerous for someone his age.

"Be careful with them, Harry," Sirius warned gravely. "They can be very dangerous."

The newly turned eight year old nodded but rolled his eyes. "Okay, Sirius," he said in a clear attempt to humor his guardian.

By the time the rest of the gifts had been opened (Harry loved Sirius' broom, and was thrilled to get some Quidditch comic books from Remus), it was almost time for the guests to start arriving. Sirius cleared the table with a wave of his wand, sending the wrapping paper into the dustbin and the presents into the cupboard under the stairs—now used to store some of Harry's winter clothing—and Harry raced up the stairs to get dressed, hair sticking out all over.

"Be sure to brush your hair!" Sirius called, but knew that whatever Harry did, it would be a mess.

Lily's hair was always perfect, never a strand out of place, even after pulling an all nighter or getting into a hexing fight with James. Red and pin straight, she kept it shoulder length until she and James started dating, and then she let it grow for him. James, on the other hand, would need at least a gallon of Sleakeezy's hair potion to get it to look like that. With the exception of when Sirius and Peter used it in his hair while he was sleeping, back in their fourth year, James never used the stuff, always claiming he wouldn't be caught dead wearing girl hair gel.

Sirius sighed as he recalled those memories. Thinking about his best friend still hurt. If only they had stuck to the original plan, or made Dumbledore the Secret Keeper, Harry would be raised by loving parents instead of his crazy and overprotective godfather.

Of course, Voldemort might still be around, which meant that his parents could still be in hiding, or killed. Even if there was no betrayal, their death may have been inevitable. At least this way, Voldemort was gone for good.

Sirius looked around the small kitchen and realized that Remus had left, probably to make sure Harry brushed his teeth. After that breakfast, he needed to…the wizarding method of healing cavities was only slightly less painful than the muggle method of drilling, and Sirius was by no means an expert in either.

Sirius waited by the door as Harry's friends arrived, Apparating with their parents or arriving by Portkey just inside the house. Sirius had set up a few for parents who hadn't wanted to Apparate with their children—Ron's mother being one of them—which he had never done before but was actually quite easy. He'd have to show Harry how to do this as soon as he got to Hogwarts…he'd never be caught sneaking around at night if Harry could suddenly appear in his dormitory whenever a teacher thought they saw him.

The expression on Snape's face when he pictured this scenario was priceless and sent him into chortles of laughter. He hoped his theory that portkeys wouldn't react unless skin (or timers) touched them was true. It would be infinitely harder to have random pieces of paper scattered throughout Hogwarts than having Harry carry one inside his pocket on a regular basis.

Ron and Mrs. Weasley suddenly appeared, nearly scaring Sirius out of his wits. They were holding a small tea cup, which Mrs. Weasley carefully tucked into one of her robe pockets.

"It's Arthur's," she explained by means of greeting. "One of the muggle objects he collects. The perfect excuse for enchanting it…not that he needs one." She laughed. "How are you doing?"

Sirius smiled, easily imagining Arthur Weasley peering over the cup, fascinated, as he put the spell on it. Muggle teacups were virtually identical to wizard teacups, but Arthur would always find a difference that put a new twist on his fascination with them.

"Just fine, Molly. Harry's upstairs, getting ready, but I'm sure he'll be down in a moment." He turned to Ron, who had grown at least a foot since Sirius had last seen him. "How are you?"

"Excited!" Ron replied, grinning from ear to ear.

Harry seemed to have appeared then, having raced down the stairs so quickly. "Hi, Ron!" he shouted, jumping off the bottom step.

"Harry, you'll hurt yourself!" Sirius and Mrs. Weasley protested, but Harry looked fine.

"Are you the first one?" he asked Rob, eyeing the large parcel in his hand.

"I think so," he replied, looking around wide eyed. "This is such a cool house!"

"Come on, I'll show you my room!" Harry replied, grabbing Ron's arm. "It's one of the only magical parts of the house, but my aunt and uncle don't know that!"

Harry and Ron then disappeared, leaving a flustered Sirius with Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry, he's usually well behaved…" he began.

Molly laughed. "It's fine. He's excited…this _is_ his first party, isn't it?"

Sirius nodded. "Tricked the Dursleys to taking a cruise for a week. Had them win some muggle sweepstakes."

"Why would any muggle want to spend a week on a dirty old boat?" Mrs. Weasley mused. She laughed. "Well, I'm happy it worked. I know you've wanted this for Harry for ages." She paused, as though wanting to say more, and then cleared her throat. "Well, I really must be going. Percy's watching the twins, and Ginny, and I'm rather nervous about him being all by himself. He's such a _good_ boy and the twins are so mischievous…"

_That's a mild way of putting it,_ thought Sirius.

"Party's over around 4. I'll give you some cake then to your children," Sirius promised. "_If_ they haven't destroyed the house."

Mrs. Weasley laughed again, but wryly. "It would hardly be the first…bless them. Well, good bye!"

With that, she removed the cup and vanished.

The rest of the children arrived within the next half hour, some looking ill from side along Apparition, but most seeming excited to be at a birthday party in a muggle home. Nearly all of the boys grew up in the wizarding world and had never even seen pictures of muggle houses. Not that they were much different from wizarding houses, but the Dursleys _had_ always been obsessively neat and orderly, which was sure to be a change. Most interesting to the kids were the muggle photographs that remained still no matter how hard you stared at it.

Somewhat surprising, at least to Sirius and Remus, was how much Harry's birthday party ended up being like one of Dudley's parties. Harry wasn't a spoiled brat, asking why people had only brought one present, of course, but the activities that went on during the party were not typical of a normal wizarding boy. Perhaps it was because of the location—all of the guests seemed endlessly fascinated by the muggle house, and Sirius had to explain how basic appliances such as microwaves worked, and why you shouldn't put your hand in a toaster—but the boys were most interested in the muggle board games. Fortunately, Dudley had a massive supply, and soon the boys were divided into groups, some playing Guess Who?, others playing Clue, two boys playing Chutes and Ladders, and there was even some interest in Sorry at one point. Sirius and Remus had to persuade the boys against some of the harder games, like monopoly, because _they_ were not entirely sure of the rules and the muggle instructions sounded like gibberish.

"Who can understand these ruddy things?" Sirius complained at one point, squinting at the small print.

Remus peered over his shoulder. "It looks like those contracts muggles are supposed to sign before purchasing a house or a car."

Even Mr. Weasley, the muggle expert, had no idea what the instructions meant. Sirius had Apparated over to the Burrow as a last resort, when Harry and a few of his friends were asking about a rule in Clue, and Mr. Weasley had been the most bewildered of all of them, but by no means the least interested. It took great persuasion on Sirius' part to retrieve the paper from the overeager wizard. Sirius knew that the Dursleys would suspect something if the rules to one of their son's games suddenly went missing.

Still, all in all everyone had a lot of fun, and later in the party, Sirius came up with the idea to incorporate magic into muggle games. The most popular way was self removing magical chairs, in which a random chair would float to the ceiling at the start of each round. The other chairs, rather than remaining where they were, danced along with the boys, making it more difficult to find a seat when the music stopped. Ron won the first game, earning a large Hershey bar Sirius found stowed among Dudley's endless supply of sweets, and Blaise won the second game.

By the time four o'clock had rolled around, Sirius and Remus were exhausted, but happy. Harry, they knew, had had a wonderful time and would remember the day for many years. Sirius and Remus had gotten plenty of photographs with wizarding cameras, so the memories would be preserved for that much longer. When they went to bed that night, all three of them had large, contented smiles plastered over their faces.

A/N: Sorry this update took so long, but as you can see, it's a long chapter, so I hope it was worth the wait.

Thanks to Jessi for betaing!

**As always, I greatly appreciate reviews—they make my day. If you have time to write a sentence or so, that would be great. I can't improve without knowing what my audience thinks!**


	11. Voldemort

**Knowing the Truth**

Sirius lay awake in bed, unable to reach the state of sleep. It was nagging him again, as though he were a house elf going directly against his master's orders. Each year that passed, Sirius had tried to justify why Harry was too young to know the truth and why the next year would be better. For nearly seven years, this worked, but he could not keep putting it off like this.

It wasn't so much that Sirius believed that ignorance was bliss. Harry had already been through a lot that most children face only in their nightmares. His parents were dead, after all. Worse, he had never known them. Oh, he had Sirius, and Sirius knew that he was a father figure to Harry, and that when Harry said "Sirius", it was as natural to him as it was for Dudley to be saying "Dad." Harry also knew that something had happened to his parents, and that he had spent several months with just the Dursleys before Sirius came into the picture, but Sirius had never elaborated on their death. Maybe if Harry wasn't so famous, Sirius would let Harry continue to believe that their death was an unhappy accident, or caused by a muggle disease such as cancer, until Harry was well into his teenage years.

The problem with Harry defeating the dark lord was that it was one of the first things children were taught by their parents. The children who had been young when Harry was born, like Percy and Bill, had more of an idea about what life had been like under Voldemort, and greater understood the significance of his defeat under Harry. So, it would be wrong for Harry not to know the truth about his own past.

Sirius just wished he could postpone the truth indefinitely, as well as releasing the information that he had been part of the reason Lily and James had died.

Yet a part of Sirius, the one that kept Harry from knowing what had happened for all of these years, kept trying to put off the conversation, insisting _Harry is only nine years old. Much too young to learn about those sorts of things._

Bad enough to explain to Harry that Lily and James had been murdered. It was far worse to explain to Harry that Voldemort had tried to kill _him_ as well. How do you tell a kid that some dark wizard tried to kill him just to satisfy his lust for blood? That he ultimately saved the wizarding world for something he could not remember, nor had he done on purpose?

Yes, there were some things that should be put off as long as possible.

Sirius turned over on his side, thinking and longing to be able to sleep.

He finally drifted off because when he woke up, it was so sudden that he was sure someone had shouted directly into his ear. Sirius even rubbed his ear as he glanced around for some explanation.

_Can't be nerves_, he told himself.

The floor, however, was silent as he made his way to his closet and tried to find one of his bathrobes in the darkness.

_The last time this had happened,_ Sirius couldn't help but recall, _Harry had been sick_.

Four and a half years ago. While it certainly hadn't been deadly, Sirius knew that if he had waited until morning to take Harry to St. Mungos, the spots might have increased and the condition may have been more serious. While he had no proof whatsoever for this, Sirius knew nonetheless that he ought to trust his gut.

Then again, he thought he had trusted his gut when he insisted Lily and James make Peter the Secret Keeper…

He knocked briefly on Harry's door, hardly waiting for a response before barging in, switched on the light automatically as he went.

"Sirius?" mumbled a sleepy voice. "That you?"

"Harry? Is something wrong?" he asked, making his way over to the bed, heart pounding in his throat.

"'Sall dark," Harry mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Too early."

"I know, puppy. I'm sorry." Sirius walked over to Harry's bed and began stroking his hair. "Go back to bed."

"Why'd you wake me then?" Harry grumbled, facing away from his godfather.

Sirius held back a smirk. His own hatred of mornings had spread to his godson.

Except it was only 3:27AM and pitch black. Not morning. No one was up at this time. With the obvious exception of him and his ruddy nerves.

Why did this have to be so hard?

"Did you have any bad dreams? Anything unusual?" he pressed, still smoothing Harry's unruly hair.

It seemed to get worse by the year.

"Yeah. _You_ coming in and not letting me sleep," Harry practically growled. "You trying to torture me?"

"Not trying, but I can see I'm succeeding," Sirius sighed. "I can't sleep."

Harry grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over his head. "Keep trying."

"It's just that…well…" Sirius paused. "Mind if Snuffles stays here?"

"Mmph," muttered Harry.

Taking that as a yes, Sirius transformed into Snuffles before jumping onto the bed. He felt something long and hard underneath him, and began to sniff at the blankets.

Harry confirmed it was him by shouting, "Ow! My legs!"

Sirius licked Harry's face and moved over. Before long, he fell asleep. He supposed he should have thought of this from the beginning. The dog mind was always thinking of one of three things: sleep, play, or food. In the middle of the night, sleep was winning out.

In the morning, Sirius woke up to find himself being hugged by Harry with one arm, and a hand on his head with the other. He had moved from the edge of the bed to near Harry's chest, and his tail was facing the wall. Sirius had also slobbered a lot, mainly onto the wall, during the night.

"Good dog," Harry mumbled as he woke up slowly. Sirius just rolled over and let out a fake snore. "Not working, Snuffles. You never sound like that when you're really sleeping."

Sirius let the dog part of himself enjoy the sensation of being scratched near a seemingly perpetual itchy spot for a moment. He stretched out on the bed, probably flattening Harry as he did so.

Maybe it was because the sun was up, but Harry didn't seem to mind. Instead, he continued to scratch Sirius' head, laughing to himself. "_You're_ supposed to be the godfather, Sirius," he chided. "I suppose you'll want to play catch next."

Snuffles' tale wagged eagerly at the suggestion of the game. Then Sirius groaned. He was letting the dog take over and he had important matters to discuss with Harry. He jumped off the bed with glee before changing back into his human body, his night robes unusually rumpled.

Harry laughed, stretched, and made his way to get out of bed. He was wearing Sirius' favorite of Harry's pajamas; yellow cats with tall glasses of milk were scattered all over the pajamas so as to look as though they were running.

Sirius lifted himself up from the floor. "Morning, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Morning, Sirius."

Sirius held Harry for a few moments before breaking off the hug, rather abruptly. He glanced at Harry in an almost appraising manner before asking, "What do you want for breakfast?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Cereal, I guess."

His eyes were so innocent. Sirius could almost see his mum inside of them. He had never been _quite_ as friendly with her as he had with James, but they had become close after the two started going out.

Sirius nodded. "Right. Let's go, then," he said stiffly.

Harry shot him a look of concern before heading from his room to the Dursleys' kitchen. Based on the time, Sirius knew that they would have about twenty minutes before they would be up. Not a whole lot of time to eat. So he'd probably have to tell Harry about Voldemort in his room. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing—there would be less of a chance of interruption there.

How could he explain it? How could Sirius tell Harry how his parents died? Harry had asked before, but Sirius just replied that he would tell Harry when he was older. Harry was hardly content with the answer, but knew that Sirius wouldn't budge with more information. Now that the time was there, though, Sirius almost wished he had told Harry a few years ago.

Well, he had delayed long enough. Harry was old enough to know. In less than two years, he would be at Hogwarts. It would be foolish to put off the task much longer. Harry could handle the truth. He had to.

They ate in silence. Harry munched on his cheerios and gulped down his orange juice, while Sirius picked at his pancakes and took occasional sips of coffee. He became rather fond of the drink when Harry kept him up until two in the morning as a baby, and he never quite overcame the addiction. Now, though, it seemed to taste like mud.

Harry noticed his nearly full plate. "You okay?"

"Just don't feel like eating," Sirius sighed. "I'm not ill, though."

_Not yet, anyway._

Harry nodded, swallowed his last mouthful of cheerios, and pushed his plate away. "I'm done."

"Want any more?" asked Sirius, stalling. Perhaps he could buy a few more minutes, and in that time put his thoughts into order…

Never mind the fact that Sirius had been trying to do this for years without success.

But Harry shook his head. "I'm full."

"Bring yours up to the kitchen sink, then," Sirius instructed, rising and moving his dishes up to the sink.

Harry nodded, wordlessly obeying. After he was finished, Sirius tried to say something but felt the need to clear his throat.

"You okay?" Harry asked again.

Sirius felt yet another rush of guilt rise through him. "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Harry asked, still standing.

"Something important. Don't worry," he added, trying to smile. "You're not in trouble or anything. Let's go up to your room. Your aunt and uncle will be downstairs soon."

They made their way up the stairs. With each step, Sirius wished the staircase was twice as long, and by the time they had reached the top step, he thought it would be worth breaking both of his legs if he could somehow fall down the stairs again and delay the talk further.

Once they reached Harry's room, Sirius sat on the bed and Harry flopped onto it, grabbing a pillow. Sirius noticed that a pale blue sheet with green leaves crept out from under the covers and, despite not caring about housework up until this point, he had a strong urge to make the bed so the sheet wouldn't be seen.

His mother had taught Kreacher to do that. She'd say, "Mudbloods and muggles don't have any taste, but _that_ is meant to be hidden from view!"

Kreacher would then bow until his head nearly touched the ground and say, "Yes, Mistress. Kreacher will do all that Mistress asks of him. Mistress is wise and is of good blood and great station. Kreacher will obey Mistress in everything Mistress asks of him."

Sirius wondered if Kreacher was still alive. His parents had died some years ago, so most likely Kreacher had either been freed (unintentionally, of course) or released to the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy had entered into marriage with Narcissa with, among other items of great value, numerous house elves, which Sirius' mother was all too aware of. So, she might have left Kreacher to her youngest daughter in her will.

Sirius was glad he wasn't responsible for the elf. Kreacher had always been overly devoted to his master and mistress, even for a house elf.

If Voldemort had chosen to recruit house elves, they alone would make a formidable army.

This reminded Sirius of the reason they were there…

"Harry, you know how you have that scar on your forehead?" he began, pointing at it in an awkward way. "The one that looks like a lightning bolt?"

_You know, next to the one that looks like a rock,_ Sirius admonished himself.

Couldn't he do anything right?

"Yeah?" Harry pulled his messy bangs away from his face, revealing the lightning bolt scar in the middle of his forehead. "What 'bout it?"

"You know that your parents are dead?"

_No, really? _Sirius reprimanded himself._ I thought they were just taking an extended vacation._

"Yeah, I know." Harry looked at Sirius in a curious manner. "You told me they were when I asked, _years_ ago. You said I'd see them again after I died. But that it wouldn't be for a really long time."

"Right. It won't be for a long time," Sirius nodded, well aware of how stupid he sounded. "Anyway, the scar…"

Harry frowned. "Did I get this when they died? Was I there, too?"

Sirius felt himself put an arm around Harry's shoulders. A part of Sirius' mind couldn't help but marvel that while he had hardly been a huggy person growing up or even as an adult, over eight years spent raising Harry produced this change in him. Sirius found it rather welcoming. He found that he rather enjoyed showing affection. He took a deep breath and began.

"Yeah. See, your parents…how do I put this?" Sirius was hardly aware that he was merely speaking as the thoughts came to his head. "Well, they were great people, Harry. They were well liked, which is great and everything, but above all, they always tried to do the right thing. Well, all right, they weren't perfect and they definitely made mistakes. I remember going to Hogwarts with your dad. We got in so much trouble once…" he trailed off as the memories came back, mainly as flashes.

Still, one event was particularly memorable and wouldn't seem to leave Sirius' head. He wondered if the other Marauders (and Snape) had recalled it with such clarity after so long.

Sirius' mind raced to the day when they were fifteen and James had hung Snape upside down in front of part of the school after their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. Even though he smiled while thinking about it, he knew that what they had done was very serious and even cruel. Looking back on it, he certainly didn't blame Dumbledore for taking one hundred points from each of them from Gryffindor (except Lupin and Lily), and giving Harry a week's worth of detentions. If Sirius recalled correctly, James also wasn't allowed to play in the last Quidditch game of the season. They both certainly deserved it, but he recalled being furious at Snape for "letting" Lily (at least, Sirius assumed that it had been Lily) rat on them.

"All in all, though, you should be proud of your parents," he began, defensively, as though Harry regularly said terrible things about them. "They were Aurors as well; they worked at catching Death Eaters."

"W-what are Death Eaters?" Harry asked, slightly fearful. "Do they go around trying to eat dead bodies?"

Sirius tried to hide a laugh, but did not entirely succeed.

"Not exactly, Harry. You see. . . Death Eaters are basically followers of Lord Voldemort in his inner circle. They're the most dangerous of all of his followers. I told you about Voldemort before, remember? A really bad wizard who wanted to kill all of the muggles and muggle borns? Well, his supporters were Death Eaters."

"They sound scary." He shivered.

Sirius pulled a pale blue blanket over both of their shoulders, feeling rather chilled himself. Harry smiled slightly and murmured, "Thanks" as he nestled against it.

_He's so innocent,_ Sirius marveled. _He knows almost nothing about the darkness out there. It's wrong to make him lose that innocence. If only he thought the Dursleys were the worst kind of people that could exist._

"Well," Sirius continued awkwardly. "Voldemort had become really powerful. No one wanted to stand up against him because they knew that they would probably die. Muggles, even, were dying left and right. He hated muggles," Sirius added. "He hated everyone who didn't agree with him. Do you understand that?"

Harry nodded wordlessly.

"Well, your parents were part of a group of people that wanted to stop him. The group was called the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius added, unsure why he was revealing these minor details. Did it really matter what the group was called? "They were extremely brave and fought against him, but it was a really dangerous time, and they knew that no one lives forever. So, they weren't too surprised when Voldemort showed up at their door, ready to kill them."

"Just him?" asked Harry. "My mum and dad against him?"

Sirius sighed. "It was probably just him, but Harry, he had dark powers no one else would dream of using. Magic in itself isn't good or evil, but dark magic can _never_ be used for good. Most witches and wizards want nothing to do with dark magic, but Voldemort…he couldn't get enough of it. So he had more power than your parents on that night."

"But I'm still alive," Harry pointed out. "Did he decide not to kill me because I was a baby?"

Sirius shook his head. "He would kill anyone, Harry. Even if you were on his side, he might still get angry at you and kill you. Or torture you. Lots of children died when he rose to power."

"How does he kill people?" asked Harry, yearning for information.

"Probably he used the Avada Kedavra curse, which is an illegal killing curse. Don't worry," he added quickly, "you can say the words without the curse itself being used. You have to mean it. And be very powerful. Like Voldemort and his Death Eaters were."

Harry nodded. "Did he use it on me?"

Sirius nodded. "Probably. Voldemort first killed your mum and dad, but, and Harry, this is the amazing part…even though Voldemort tried to kill you afterwards, he couldn't." He smiled grimly. "In fact, something about you made the curse rebound on him. He was almost less than a ghost, if not dead, and you escaped with the scar on your forehead. Which is really odd because the killing curse never leaves a mark. Anyway, you're kind of a hero in the wizarding world. Everyone knows about you and what you did. You're famous."

"I'd rather have my mum and dad," Harry sighed.

"I know, puppy." Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulders. "But you have me. You always have me."

"I know." Harry paused to take a deep breath (which Sirius recognized as a sure sign of nerves). "Can I be alone for awhile?"

Sirius was startled by this reply but didn't refuse. "Of course, Harry," he replied, squeezing his shoulders again.

He left the room feeling that things had gone rather poorly. But how could they have been any better? Sirius took out a book from his room and began to read it, but found that he couldn't concentrate. Finally, he wrote a letter recounting the events to Molly. Maybe she would know something about this.

He didn't feel that he was even remotely ready to be a parent.

Sirius left Harry alone for the rest of the afternoon and evening. The door to Harry's room remained locked, and even though Sirius would have been able to open it easily without magic, he decided against it. It would be best to just let Harry come to him when he was ready. At 9:00, Sirius headed to Harry's room to say goodnight. The door was open, but he wasn't there.

Fearful, Sirius began to check the house for Harry, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, he opened a window in hopes of getting some fresh air to calm himself. He spotted a black haired boy sitting on the porch, his head in his arms.

Sirius sighed and removed a long, warm blanket from one of the shelves. Harry must be freezing. He walked outside and awkwardly approached his godson, who was crying.

He was about to speak when Harry began to whisper through his tears, "Mum? Dad? Can you hear me?"

Sirius wrapped the blanket around Harry, putting his arms around the small boy as he did so. He knelt down next to his godson, whose tears had now turned to sobs.

Before long, Sirius was also in tears. He wrapped his arms around Harry again and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry," Harry finally whimpered, burying his head into Sirius' chest.

"It's all right," Sirius reassured. "I told you too quickly. I should have done a better job with it. I was just worried when I saw you were gone. Next time, let me know, all right?"

Harry nodded, wiping his face. "Will I ever see them again?" he asked.

"Yes, puppy, you will. But it won't be for a long, long time. They are, however, watching over you right now. They love you."

"I love them," he replied with fervor. "And I love you, too."

"I love you as well, puppy," Sirius answered, squeezing Harry's shoulders. "Let's go back inside, all right?"

Harry nodded and Sirius scooped him up into his arms.

Sirius thought he could see tears streaming down Harry's now unnaturally pale face, but his own vision was soon so blurred by tears that he could hardly know for sure. He did, however, feel two small, soft arms creep around his neck tightly; Sirius immediately returned the hug. He felt some drops brush against his robes, and knew it was Harry's tears. Sirius, acting completely on instinct, pulled Harry even closer, now worried that he would catch a cold. Sirius thought that he must have looked as though he was protecting Harry, as though he were a bird with a just hatched baby.

The blanket draped over him like an invisibility cloak, and Harry's breathing slowed down as his sobs gradually diminished. Sirius held Harry like that for what seemed like ages as they walked inside and up to Harry's room, murmuring words of comfort, and even rocking him back and forth at times. Any preteen resemblance of Harry's behavior was soon forgotten by the still young boy; Harry simply wanted to be safe against the only parental figure he had.

Once Sirius placed Harry in his bed, Harry moved the covers over so that he could crawl in beside them. Sirius nodded and once he finished tucking in the blankets near Harry so that he was warm, he lay himself next to Harry, holding the small boy as though he were a teddy bear.

Finally, Harry spoke quietly. "H-he's not powerful anymore, is he? Voldemort, I mean."

"No. He lost all of his power that night," Sirius reassured, stroking his hair. "You're famous because of that. The wizarding world calls you The Boy Who Lived. He's gone because of you. You saved countless people that night. And they'll never forget it."

Harry didn't seem to hear the second half of Sirius' statement. "Is he dead?"

"We don't know," Sirius admitted grudgingly. "Everyone likes to think that he's dead, but wizards have seen his form in various places. He can't do anything, because he's not even a ghost, but he's still there."

"So, he could come back, then," Harry realized.

Sirius shook his head, refusing to see this as an option, despite being told otherwise by Dumbledore on numerous occasions. It had been part of the reason Harry needed to remain with the Dursleys. Granted, dark wizards could kill him for their own pleasure, but more likely, someone like Malfoy would try to use Harry to bring about the return of the dark lord.

He couldn't say this, though. "He's too evil to be human, so he's too evil to die. But he's gone and he'll _never_ be back, Harry."

Harry's head drooped against Sirius' arms. Sirius added again for emphasis and for himself, "You're safe here, Harry. You're safe with me. We both are."

Harry remained quiet for awhile. "Sirius?"

"Yes, puppy?" he asked, still running his fingers through Harry's soft hair.

"Why does my scar look like a lightning bolt?"

Sirius paused, not knowing the answer. He doubted that Dumbledore did, though he probably had some theories that were close, if not dead on.

"No one really knows, but it might be because you were saved by love, and love is like light." He paused. "Light's the opposite of darkness, which is what Voldemort was, so your scar shows that light came out of nowhere and killed the worst wizard ever. You're marked by light."

"I'm marked by light?"

"Yes. You'll never turn to the dark arts. You'll always be good. And you'll always be my puppy." Sirius kissed Harry on the forehead, finally removing his hands from Harry's back.

Just a few moments later, they were both sound asleep where they lay.

The next day, Sirius woke up to find Harry caught in his hug but still able to breathe. He decided to tickle Harry into waking up which provoked Harry to throw a pillow at him.

Sirius then proceeded to chase Harry around the room until the squirming nine year old collapsed on the floor, completely out of breath, and held him in a huge, long hug.

"Harry, if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here," he told him seriously.

"Thanks," Harry replied earnestly.

And Sirius knew that he meant it. Now there definitely would never be—_could_ never be—secrets between the two of them.

A/N: Thanks goes to Jessi, as always, for being a great beta reader and getting this chapter back to me so quickly. I can't say for sure if chapter 12 will be up before the weekend, but I wanted to use the day off from work to be productive. 

As always, reviews make my day. I can't improve without constructive criticism, and I love to know what my audience wants for the story (though I can't always promise that it will happen). Please take a minute and write a review telling me what you liked, what you want, and where I can improve. Thanks!


	12. Old Adventures

**Old Adventures**

Sirius usually left Harry at the Weasleys when he visited Remus during the night of and after the full moon. It was safest that way. Even though the wolfsbane potion made Remus harmless as a wolf, they both agreed that it just wasn't something Harry should see. He knew the basics and felt that this general knowledge was enough for the young boy.

Now that Harry was ten, though, Sirius thought it was important for Harry to see what went on. Moony had been, in some ways, another victim of Voldemort, having been bitten by Fenrir Greyback.

Granted, this was before Voldemort's height of power, but Greyback had been on Voldemort's side from the beginning, and could have well been acting on his orders even then.

They used floo powder, of course. Shortly after Harry's birthday, Sirius had seen some problems presented with side-along Apparition (squirming children could have parts left behind) and bribed/bullied Vernon into converting their electrical fireplace into a normal, wood burning fireplace. Petunia and Dudley voiced that they liked this more after the project was complete, and it had never occurred to Vernon that Sirius and Harry would be able to use it for transportation. Sirius kept his supply of floo powder in a small box under his bed, and warned Harry never to do so much as _touch_ it unless he gave his expressed permission.

Also unknown to Vernon was that Sirius had had the fireplace hooked up to the floo network. Strictly speaking, muggle homes were not allowed to be connected to the system, but here Dumbledore had used his influence and pointed out to the Ministry that because Sirius and Harry lived in the house, it was not a true muggle house. After all, sometimes muggle homes with witches or wizards found themselves in need of this transport and communication, and aside from charging a large fee, the ministry made no objection about the connection whatsoever.

Part of the problem associated with communication or transportation via floo powder was, of course, the possibility of uninvited guests. In Harry's case, especially, the Ministry had feared that former Death Eaters would use this entrance to their advantage. Once again, Dumbledore proved to be an asset, explaining that protection around the Dursley house had already been given, and it prevented Harry from being harmed from dark wizards without exception.

The Dursleys remained painfully oblivious to the argument and in moments like that, Sirius wondered if they were exceptionally unaware or determined to avoid seeing magic at all costs.

After all, when Oscar Ordthige came to measure the fireplace, wearing wizard robes and an oversized blue hat, surely Petunia or Vernon would have said _something…_

Sirius supposed that he was grateful for their noninterference.

Sirius now finished packing his clothes with Harry's, and a spare bottle of the potion made by Snape himself for the following month, and zipped the bag shut.

"Harry! Are you ready?" he called through the open door.

"Almost," Harry called back from inside his room.

"Quiet up there!" thundered Vernon, creating more noise than the two wizards combined.

Neither wizard answered him, being completely used to this kind of treatment, but Sirius rolled his eyes as he removed the suitcase from his bed.

Sirius dragged the suitcase downstairs and waited by the fireplace for Harry. A few minutes later, a smaller than average boy came down the stairs lugging a bag on his back with considerable difficulty.

"Ready to go, puppy?" Sirius questioned, facing Harry. He grabbed hold of Harry's suitcase, and groaned. "What'd you put in here, rocks?"

"Bludgers," Harry replied. Seeing Sirius' startled face, he added quickly, "Just kidding."

"It's not a joke," Sirius grumbled as he dragged the bags to the fireplace. "Ruddy bludgers…they could kill you. Want to hurt someone, just unleash a bludger and hide."

Harry snickered at the mental image this created. "That's a sad way to die."

Sirius grunted, mostly because he had run out of breath. He removed some of the green floo powder from his pocket and held it towards Harry.

"Go on," he nodded. Seeing Harry's hesitation, Sirius added, "I'll take care of the bags. Just go on ahead of me."

Harry sighed, still not touching the powder. "Can't we use your broom?" he complained.

Sirius shook his head. "Not in broad daylight, puppy. And I can't stand the Knight Bus. Stan scares me and Ernie can't drive for all the gold in the world. Muggle _and_ wizarding. Come on. You'll do fine."

This was only Harry's third time traveling by floo powder. After the first time, he nearly retched on Sirius' robes as soon as they reached their destination (the Burrow), and coming back was not much better. It was probably just motion sickness, though, because shortly after both trips, he was fine.

Harry took a small pinch of the powder and tentatively faced the fireplace. "Canis den!" he called, facing the fire.

Sirius had thought up the name for Remus' small house.

Sirius waited a few seconds before following Harry, partly out of concern and partly due to the fact he was carrying the luggage. He was used to this type of travel and hardly noticed as the different houses swept past them. He rose from Moony's fireplace as though it were second nature, pausing only to grab hold of the bags. Once they were in no danger of burning, he looked around the room for Harry.

Harry must have done everything correctly because his pale face appeared next to Remus' smiling one. Moony reached for the bags as Sirius started stamping the soot from his feet onto the old rug Moony had placed for such occasions.

"Welcome, Padfoot," he said, giving his friend a hug.

Sirius hugged back, hiding a sigh. Remus looked no worse than usual, but also no better. His eyes looked out of focus and his cheeks were sunken. Even his hair seemed greyer than usual. It was because of Sirius' generosity that he had access to the recently developed wolfsbane potion, but even though Remus claimed it removed the pain of the transformation, he certainly did not appear any better than just before he did when he transformed naturally.

Still, Sirius had to think of Harry, who had never seen his uncle this way before. Harry was standing slightly apart from the two adults, legs shifting as they always did when Harry felt nervous. Sirius' sympathy turned to Harry. He had never been around a sick person before, and despite knowing Remus almost as well as Sirius, he looked like he felt out of place.

Sirius released Moony from the hug and turned to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Feeling okay?" he asked, and Harry nodded.

Remus smiled as he turned to hug Harry. "I've never much liked floo powder myself," he said, wrapping his arms around the boy. Harry came almost up to his shoulders and Sirius could see him hug back, looking grateful.

After releasing Harry, Remus beckoned towards a worn couch and two worn chairs, both dark brown and, as Sirius and Harry knew from experience, extremely comfortable.

"Sit down. I'll make some tea," Remus smiled. "Harry, is your stomach all right?"

"Tea's good," Harry replied, managing a small smile as he sat down on the couch.

"Yes, but _I'll_ make it," Sirius intervened. "Moony, you should be resting, not on your feet."

"As though boiling water is slave labor," Moony replied, eyebrows raised. "You worry too much."

Sirius snorted. "Sit down. Talk to my godson…I'm sick of him." He winked very obviously at Harry, who snickered.

Before Remus could object further, Sirius pushed him into a chair and left the shabby den, heading for the kitchen.

As he prepared the tea, he could hear Harry and Remus talking about Hogwarts. "You'll be getting your letter within a few months, I expect," Remus was saying. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah, but kind of nervous," Harry replied. "Sirius is always going on about how smart my mum and dad were. He expects a lot."

Remus laughed softly. "Did he tell you about how much trouble he and your father got into? Not that I was entirely innocent…however, between the two of them, I'd say they set a record for detentions, points taken away, and expulsion threats." Sirius could hear him smile. "They were always in some kind of trouble. I'm quite sure McGonagall would have been happier if they had been a bit more average in their class work _and_ their ability to make trouble."

As soon as the tea was finished, Sirius expertly poured it into three chipped cups and absentmindedly reached into the third drawer for Remus' chocolate biscuits. The werewolf was a chocoholic, and proud to admit it. The only thing he _claimed_ to dislike about Sirius was that whenever he visited, he ate most of it.

"Are you corrupting my godson, Moony?" Sirius asked with a mock angry expression on his face. "Defacing the name of Potter? Insulting the work of the great marauders?" He shook his head dramatically. "Harry, ignore him. He speaks blasphemy. We were always loved and adored for the mischief we caused. We kept Filch on his toes, after all." He sighed melodramatically. "I never thought _you'd _be the one to betray us, Moony."

Remus rolled his eyes. "_We_ always got into trouble, even when it was your idea or James'. Granted, Harry, they were the best years of my life, but I'm not sure Hogwarts is up to something like that so soon."

Sirius snickered. "They'll have to be. Puppy's going to be learning from the masters of mischief, so he'll be able to avoid being caught. That's the trick, Harry," Sirius added, handing him a cup of tea. "_Never_ get caught."

Remus coughed loudly, as though to cover a snort. "Of course, after awhile it won't matter, because whenever something goes wrong, they'll blame you, even if you had nothing to do with it," replied Remus, reaching for a cup. "At least, I presume that you weren't there when Filch's hair turned red."

"Of course not!" Sirius looked outraged. "We meant to turn it green. Only reason it turned read was because _someone_" he glanced meaningfully at Remus "misread where it clearly said 'the root of Alphsdash' and found a root of Alfdash. Didn't bother to tell him what it was for—think we said it was extra credit for Potions. For whatever reason, _we_ couldn't get it and Remus could…or so he thought. Anyway, we were mortified at the result," he explained. "Red was a dead giveaway that it was a Gryffindor, while green would have led old Filch to think it was Snivellus messing with his potions again."

Harry laughed, but Remus shook his head.

"They never let me forget it," he sighed. "For months, they'd wait until my back was turned and turn something of mine green. _Including_ food."

"Well, you never made that mistake again, did you?" replied Sirius, as though that settled it.

The other marauder raised his eyebrows. "There was enough between you and James to go around. In any event, I did share some of the blame, most of the time."

"Yeah, well, the fact remains that you never served a detention in all your years at Hogwarts."

"A record, I suppose," the werewolf replied dryly. "Besides, I have reason to believe that you and James communicated revenge upon those who caught you during the detentions you claim to despise."

"Well of course, but they could never prove anything." Sirius turned to Harry, grinning broadly. "We were always in different ones." He turned to Harry and explained, "For some reason, the teachers didn't trust us together. Fortunately, James found a way around it."

"What did he do?" asked Harry, interestedly. Despite his unease about leading another generation of marauders, along with receive the top marks his mum and dad earned so easily, Harry was quite anxious to hear the rest of the story.

"A two way mirror," Sirius announced proudly. "I still have them. Small enough to fit into your pocket, easily Vanished—once you get to that, of course—from the suspecting eyes of teachers. James and I would talk throughout the length of our detentions, and they could last for hours."

"Especially when some of the professors caught on that you enjoyed polishing trophies or disemboweling toads a bit too much. Not to mention the fact that they heard you talking to yourself," Remus interjected. "Sirius overestimates his own brilliance. To hear him speak, you'd think the school was filled with dimwits."

"Thus speaks the Marauder who never got in trouble, Harry," Sirius chortled, patting Remus on the head.

"Sirius, you're the dog, not me," Moony frowned.

Padfoot ignored him. "If you can, be like him," Sirius instructed with a grave expression. "Cause mayhem and havoc while hiding behind an innocent and sincere face."

"Just _don't_ try any fancy moves on your broom before taking at _least_ one flying lesson," Remus cautioned, staring meaningfully at Sirius.

Sirius glared at his best friend. "I meant to fall off that one time.!"

"So you say." Remus turned to Harry. "He went on for the next week or so about how he _meant_ to land on his knees, break the kneecaps, and need both legs healed," Remus replied dryly.

Sirius had no retort for that. "I think it's time you had some rest, Moony," he decided. "I'll fix you lunch, but I want you to take a long nap. In your bed. No reading," he added briskly, sounding as stern as Madam Pomfrey. "Harry, you watch him and make sure the patient obeys me."

"What, precisely then, am I allowed to do?" Remus complained, getting up from the chair and walking towards his messy bed.

"Talk to Harry. Sleep. Daydream. Think," Sirius supplied as he edged towards the door.

"I think your godfather reversed our ages, Harry," Remus whispered as Sirius left the room.

"I heard that!" came the voice from the hall.

Harry and Remus snickered.

Later that day, Remus awoke from a long, dreamless nap and saw that Harry had fallen asleep on a faded couch near him. Sirius must have covered him with a blanket after Remus had fallen asleep.

Sirius knocked on the door slowly, hesitantly. Remus croaked out, "Come in," before relaxing back into the pillows. A lot of his belongings, including his feather bed, had been given to him by Sirius at some point, but unlike the Weasley hand me downs, they were still in good condition. Remus had argued against Sirius' generosity at first, but Sirius would have none of it. He had insisted that he had more than enough money to live on and Remus needed the things more than Sirius did. Remus had finally agreed around the time that Sirius managed to gain custody of Harry. He told himself it was because Sirius had enough to worry about and he'd do whatever he could to make life easier for his friend. Deep down, he was truly grateful and fully intended to repay his friend's kindness.

Sirius was now placing a bowl of chicken noodle soup by his desk. Upon seeing Remus' open eyes, he grinned.

"Afternoon, sleeping beauty," he teased.

"Where _do_ you learn all of these muggle fairytale references?" Remus replied, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius snorted. "Whatever we say about muggles, they have better children's books than the ones in our world. Even if the pictures don't move."

Remus smiled. "If you say so," before letting loose a large yawn.

"Aww," Sirius crooned, "is Remie tired?"

Remus shot his friend a withering look. "Quite funny, Padfoot."

Sirius retrieved the bowl from the desk. "I brought some food for you. Don't worry," he added, seeing Remus' pained expression, "I won't try to feed you."

"I imagine you'd spill the contents over my head," Remus retorted, taking the bowl gratefully.

"Now be a good boy and drink it all up," Sirius teased, ruffling Remus' hair.

"Yes, Dad."

Sirius snickered and then sighed. "Seems like just yesterday he was throwing up on me. He's growing up way too quickly. As soon as he leaves for Hogwarts, I'll only see him for a couple of months out of the year. Then he'll be gone for good, no doubt working at the Ministry as an Unspeakable or something else just as important."

"You have _months_ before he leaves, Sirius," Remus replied gently. He took another sip of the chicken soup. "That's plenty of time, and I'm sure you'll make the most of it. Besides, you'll see him for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

Sirius sighed. "I'm hoping to come up to Hogwarts for those," Sirius confided. "I'd rather have Harry spend as little time with the Dursleys as possible."

Remus nodded. "Think Dumbledore would approve?"

"I don't know if it's ever been done, but I can't see why Dumbledore would say no. But I'll wait until Harry settles in before talking to him about it. He might want to spend the time with his friends."

Remus shook his head. "You're his godfather, and after not seeing you for several months, I'm sure that Harry would be thrilled to have you spend some time at the school. I think he'd enjoy that."

"I hope so," Sirius sighed. "Well, you need to get some sleep. You _need_ it, with the full moon."

Remus nodded, handed Sirius the empty bowl, and pulled the warm covers over his head. Within minutes, he fell asleep.

In the other bedroom, Harry was trying to read but kept getting distracted by the talk Sirius and Remus had held earlier.

He loved his dad, but he was afraid of living up to his image. Sirius seemed to worship James, and Harry believed that whatever he did, he'd fall short. He didn't want to be a troublemaker…not yet, anyway. He just wanted to go to school, make friends who didn't treat him like a freak or a celebrity because of his scar, and make good marks.

Besides, for all he knew, Hogwarts may not have even let him in.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews. I was floored by the amount of feedback I received from the last chapter. Your enthusiasm means a great deal to me and is part of the reason I'm still working on this fic. :)**

We're getting to the end of the pre-Hogwarts era, so rather than putting _all_ seven stories in one, I'm going to separate _each year_ into a _different_ story. They'll all be called "An Alternate Route", but year one will be "An Altnerate Route, year one" (or something along those lines that's clearer).

I think it will be easier for new readers, and me, to have eight stories with about 20 chapters apiece than one story with a few hundred chapters. So, "An Alternate Route" will be ending within the next couple of chapters, but please keep a lookout for the continuations!


	13. New Adventures

Harry might have been concerned with the implications of being accepted into, and going to, Hogwarts, but Sirius tried to contain his unease at losing Harry by acting even more excited than usual. Even though Sirius knew that Harry's letter wouldn't come until late July, since that's when his and James' had arrived, he could not help double checking each letter Andy (their new owl) returned with.

In the meantime, he talked Harry's ears off about his adventures at Hogwarts with his father, taking enormous pleasure in reliving old memories. Sirius rarely talked about James as a boy before this, so Harry was an eager listener, but the tales, enriched over time, made him even more uneasy about following in his father's footsteps.

"We even made a map of the castle at one point, but one of us dropped it somewhere and we could never find it," Sirius sighed. "That was towards the end of our seventh year. Doubt anyone knew how to work it, though. Probably just got thrown away as some old parchment. Still, if you hear any word of it, you will let me know, all right, puppy?"

Harry nodded, chewing his peanut butter sandwich without much enthusiasm. Where did Sirius think he was going to find time to look for the map with all of the other things he was supposed to do? He supposed that finding the map could count as causing mischief, but it seemed much easier to learn a nasty charm and use it on someone without being caught in the act.

Andy flew in before Harry had a chance to voice these concerns, a letter attached to his feet. Sirius leapt up, grabbed the letter from the feet without bothering to untie it (causing Andy to yelp in pain) and a huge grin appeared on his face.

"Harry, you have a letter from Hogwarts!"

Harry continued eating and avoided his godfather's gaze. "I might not have gotten in, Sirius."

Sirius laughed as though Harry had told a particularly funny joke. "Silly puppy. Your name's been down since before you were born. You defeated the Dark Lord. I think you'll manage acceptance at the best school of witchcraft and wizardry known to the magical world," Sirius boasted. He handed Harry the letter. "You do the honors."

Harry read over the letter quickly. "Yeah, I got in."

Sirius grabbed the letter out of Harry's hands, laughing. "We should frame it," he declared.

"When do you want to go shopping for my school supplies?" Harry asked as he swallowed the last bit of the sandwich.

"How about when you're finished eating?"

Harry set his plate aside, hiding a sigh. "I'm done."

"Great!" Sirius grinned broadly as he took the plate and glass of finished milk up to the sink. "I'll be ready in just a few minutes."

Shopping for Hogwarts supplies was more enjoyable than Harry had expected. He had been to Diagon Alley with Sirius before, of course. He remembered getting ice cream there when Sirius had to shop for something, and visiting all of the strange pets in the cluttered wizarding pet store. Harry and Sirius hadn't exactly gone often every week, but there had hardly been a year when they had not visited. As a result, they both knew their way around fairly well, and Harry knew that he would be stared at by strangers because of his scar.

"Can we get ice cream after we're finished?" Harry asked hopefully, tugging at Sirius' arm.

"Sure," Sirius laughed. "Anything for the new Hogwarts student."

Harry frowned at that comment, but Sirius didn't notice. He frowned again when he realized a lot of what he said about school seemed to go unnoticed by his godfather these days. Far from encouraging him, Sirius' recollections made Harry feel that he would never live up to his parents' reputation, and even if he did, he'd make enemies with everyone at the school, especially the teachers.

_Plus, it's not like it will matter because _they_ were first,_ Harry thought glumly.

He understood how Ron was feeling. He had visited his friend several months ago, and Ron's mother and father had been convinced that he would get accepted into Hogwarts because all of their family had gone ("except mum's aunt the accountant, and no one ever talks about her"). Ron's brothers, cumulatively, seemed to hold the reputation of Harry's parents. They had all done exceptionally well in school, one actually becoming Head Boy and the other just given the role of Gryffindor male Prefect. Another brother had been a Quidditch star (though Ron was sure his marks were good as well), and his twin brothers had a knack for causing trouble, but being likeable.

"Plus, they get great grades," Ron had complained.

They both seemed to sense their own insignificance after coming after what felt like a family of heroes, but Ron pointed out that at least Harry had his defeat with You Know Who to fall back on. At one point, he said that Harry could always say that You Know Who had taken away most of his intelligence when Harry stopped him from killing him.

At the time it seemed laughable, but now Harry was beginning to see it as a valid option. Certainly if Sirius continued to go on and on about James being a perfect student and troublemaker.

It was for this reason that, although most of the trip went well, the visit to Ollivander's was enough to put Harry in a bad mood.

After trying out what felt like a million different wands, Ollivander finally selected a wand that seemed to be hidden from the others. When Harry waved it and it worked, Ollivander's eyes grew wide and he started talking about how the wand chooses the wizard, and that this meant Harry was destined for greatness.

He talked about this for at least five minutes, giving many references to You Know Who throughout the speech, but after the first thirty seconds, Harry had tuned the man out. He knew it wasn't polite, but he doubted that Sirius really noticed if he was paying attention and was starting to feel fed up with all of this attention. Why couldn't he be a normal boy, with normal parents who didn't get themselves killed or get into heaps of trouble at school? Not for the first time, Harry felt positively overwhelmed by what he had to live up to.

The last stop was the pet shop. Sirius had already planned to buy Harry an owl as an early birthday present, and it wasn't until they were actually at the owl cages, peering over each of them, that Harry piped up.

"Sirius, the letter said an owl, a toad, or a cat," he pointed out, trying to draw Sirius' attention away from a large black owl with light brown eyes. Despite Sirius' admiring looks at it, a sure sign he wanted Harry to pick it out for himself, the owl looked fierce and scared Harry considerably. He had never really liked owls, and this one was enough to frighten him away from them for good.

"Yeah, but you don't want a _toad_," Sirius said dismissively. "What good's that for?"

"I don't want a toad," Harry agreed, trying not to think of one crawling around his clothes, creeping up in odd places. "But a cat would be kind of cool."

Sirius turned to Harry, crestfallen. "You already have a dog though," he pointed out. "Dogs don't do well with cats."

Harry laughed despite himself. "You're not _really_ a dog, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. "They're so _girly_," he complained. "Sure, your mum had one, but I don't think any boy our year did."

It was a valid point. Harry didn't want to be teased—he had faced enough of that going to primary school with Dudley. On the other hand, he knew that owls couldn't live with the students—they had to live in the owlery—and wasn't part of having a pet taking care of it and spending time with it? Besides, owls were mostly used for delivering mail, and Sirius had one of those. If Harry needed to contact Sirius and didn't have Andy at hand, there were dozens of barn owls owned by the school for people without one. Harry knew that Sirius would say that having your _own_ owl was a lot more fun than watching a random owl fly into the great hall, and this way Harry would know immediately if he got a letter or a package, but Harry wasn't convinced.

He didn't say as much to Sirius. Instead, he just looked at him with his huge eyes and gave his godfather what they referred to as the puppy stare.

"Please?" he asked.

Sirius sighed. "They shed horribly. You'll get cat fur all over your school robes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I can just learn the Hair Banishing charm. Besides, Ron said that his family always attracts attention at King's Cross when they bring in their owls."

Sirius knew that the latter was true, and for that reason, he refused to address it. "You'll want to be careful with that or else you'll end up completely bald," Sirius grinned. "Although your hair grows so quickly I bet it would be back in a few hours." He sighed again. "Okay, if a cat is _really_ what you want…" He took one last look at the owl cages, as though asking them to beg Harry to take one of them.

Harry grinned. "It is."

They ended up choosing a brown cat with green eyes which were practically identical to Harry's. The cat was more of a kitten at that point—it was so small that Harry could hold it with cupped hands, and seemed more interested in sleeping than shedding. With Harry, it was love at first sight, and even Sirius had to admit that, as far as cats went, this one wasn't too bad.

Harry's birthday that year went by as quickly as the rest of the summer. Before they knew it, it was August thirty-first and Sirius and Harry were running around like mad, trying to remember if they packed everything. The new cat, who Harry had named Merlie after the witch who had invented the Hair Banishing charm, sat quietly on the bed, looking bored as Sirius and Harry zipped and unzipped his suitcases, checking to see that everything was there. About three o'clock in the afternoon, Merlie finally stretched out and decided that simply watching was exerting too much energy, and lay down for a nap.

Harry, who had been up since six that morning, wished that he could join her.

The packing was finished, at least, but now Sirius wanted to go over his advice on how to deal with _certain_ people at the school. Harry had heard the advice numerous times while growing up, but Sirius seemed to forget that.

"Now," he was saying as he sat on the orange chair across from Harry's bed, wringing his hands nervously. "The biggest git in the world who you're ever going to meet is your Potions instructor. He hated your father and me when we went to school with him because we were everything he wasn't."

"Wait, was Snape in your year?" asked Harry. He had heard about Malfoy (a fifth year when James and Sirius had been first years) and his desire to rid the school of muggle born witches and wizards. He knew about Avery, a friend of Snape's who was two years older than James and Sirius, but never acted it. Then there were a bunch of other people Sirius had mentioned who had become dark witches and wizards, like the Lestranges, but who he was sure didn't have current associations with Hogwarts.

"Yeah, old Snivelly was in our year, so we had to see him all the time," snarled Sirius. "Biggest idiot in the world, except in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why Potions is a mystery, but that slimy weasel came to school knowing more hexes and curses than half of the professors. We made his life difficult because of it, but it didn't teach him." Sirius sighed. "Wasn't out of school for two months before he joined Voldemort. Then he came over _just_ before the war ended. As far as I know, he was too late to be of any use, assuming he was really on our side, but he's Dumbledore's pet." Sirius shuddered. "He shouldn't be here, but he is. He's like mold."

Harry had heard worse descriptions of Snape. Sirius managed to make him sound like a combination of the biggest idiot in the world and the sneakiest and darkest man he had ever met. He thought that Sirius had been exaggerating until Percy had complained about him to all of the Weasleys. Percy never complained about teachers, so a teacher who took points off of _him_ and warranted his complaints was sure to be a terror.

If even half of what Sirius had said was true, Snape would see to it that Harry's life at Hogwarts would be a living hell. It was yet another reason why he did not want to go.

"Thing about gits like him," Sirius continued, "is that they're the lowest form of life imaginable. Your aunt and uncle are warm compared to him, and you know _that's_ saying something."

Harry nodded again. His aunt and uncle had always been cold to Harry, but after he received his letter from Hogwarts, the treatment grew worse. Harry knew that if Sirius hadn't been there, there was no way the Dursleys would allow him to go to that school. As it was, the rumors about Sirius' alleged madness had increased greatly, and Harry was glad that his godfather was going to live with Uncle Remus for the entirety of the school year.

"Just remember that anything he says is probably a lie, and the absolute worst thing you could do would be nothing next to him. He's hateful, vengeful, and basically an imitation of the Dark Lord. I'd also bet a hundred galleons he can read minds. So, try not to get into trouble with him, because he's not worth it. Binns is better, and I'd sleep in his class all the time."

"He didn't take off points for it though," Harry recalled, smiling.

"If he did, all of the houses would be in the negative numbers," Sirius snickered. "He probably thinks sleeping in class is what everyone does. I doubt he could keep his class awake when he was alive."

On and on the advice went. Despite knowing it all, Harry felt nervous about his first day, and was glad that he had Ron as a friendly face. The others would probably stare at him to death because of his scar, since most of Harry's other wizard friends had gone to different (which Sirius insisted meant "inferior") schools.

It was ten o'clock at night on August thirty-first and Sirius tossed and turned restlessly under his covers. He kept thinking, _This time tomorrow, Harry's going to be sleeping in his four poster bed at Hogwarts. I'm going to be the only wizard in the house. He's never stayed away from home for as much as a night, and now I won't see him for several months._

He tossed and turned under the pale blue covers, trying to relax. It wasn't working. Finally, Sirius threw the covers back, switched on the lamp, and put on his bedroom slippers. Appropriately, they had stuffed animal dogs attached to the toes. Sirius pulled on his pale yellow bathrobe and tied the strings into a rather sloppy bow. Hiding a yawn, he grabbed a small package that he had wrapped earlier that day, stuffed it in his robe pocket, opened the door, and head across the hall.

Sirius knocked on Harry's door gently.

"Come in," the familiar voice called.

He could tell just from the tone that Harry had been crying. After knowing him so long, Sirius believed that he could almost read Harry's thoughts, and certainly guess his reactions with most things. Sirius tentatively opened the door. He turned on the light and saw Harry lying there, and, sure enough, there were a few non wiped tears on his cheeks.

"Can't sleep?" Harry shook his head in confirmation"Me neither. Mind if I join you?"

"Okay." Harry moved over several inches in his bed.

Sirius plopped down on the bed, leaned against the pillows, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

_Smart, Sirius,_ he chided himself.

Harry's response surprised him. It was very direct. "I don't want to go to Hogwarts."

Sirius sighed. He should have suspected this. "I'm not too crazy about losing my puppy, either."

Harry wrapped his arms around Sirius who squeezed back.

"I'm going to fail," Harry whispered miserably. Somehow, it was easier to say in the dark, when his godfather couldn't see him that well. "You and Dad were great at everything. Lessons, making trouble, being popular. Everything. I'm going to be such a disappointment."

Sirius flinched when he heard this. The words hit too close to home—his parents had never been satisfied with him after Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. No matter how well he did, it was never enough because they'd always point out a way he could have done better. Not that they _cared_ about marks, but it seemed as though after Sirius had let the family down by being sorted into the same house as the blood traitors, he was destined to be a disappointment.

Sirius remembered feeling trapped in Grimmauld place, and running away to James' one summer after a particularly nasty fight with his parents. It never occurred to Sirius that he was acting in a very similar manner with Harry.

How long had he felt this way? Had Harry tried to say anything before? Probably, but Sirius had just dismissed it. It must have been recent, after all of those retellings of the Marauders' events at Hogwarts. Well, he had a tendency to exaggerate, but Sirius never imagined that Harry saw the stories as anything but good fun.

"No, you won't," Sirius whispered, holding Harry close. "However you do at Hogwarts, I'm still going to love you. Even if you don't get in trouble at all, or get caught all of the time, I'll still be proud of you." He turned on the lights with a flick of his wand and stared intensely at Harry. "I don't expect you to be just like your dad. You're Harry Potter, not _James_ Potter. You're already good at a lot of stuff it took your father years to work out." He placed both hands on Harry's shoulders again. "Just try your best and have fun. You can never disappoint me."

Harry's face grew into a wide smile. He exhaled deeply, and Sirius knew that now, everything would be all right. He grinned back. They sat in silence like that for awhile. More determined than ever to hand over his last tie to James, Sirius spoke up.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry leaned closer in, his head against Sirius' soft, warm bathrobe.

"I have something for you. I think it might help you when you're at school."

Harry's wide eyes turned to face Sirius'. "What is it?"

Sirius retrieved the stripped package from his pocket of his bathrobe and handed it to his godson. "Ever seen this before?" he asked. Harry shook his head. "This is a two-way mirror. I've got the other half with me, and I promise I'll always keep it with me." He paused. "Now, if you ever need me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll appear in yours. Then we can talk normally."

Harry held the mirror carefully, eyeing it with great interest. "How…?" he asked.

Sirius smiled. "James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions," he added with a grin. "Took ages to get the charm right. For awhile, you could only talk if the other person was less than fifty feet away, or else your reflection would travel to that point exactly. Scared Mrs. Norris a few times, that did," Sirius added, snickering. "But it's all worked out now."

"What if it breaks?"

"Then just say 'reparo' and it will be good as new," Sirius replied. "I know from experience."

"Thanks," Harry whispered.

"I know it's not the same as me being there, but it's something, right?"

Harry nodded. This was way better than the telephone…and besides, Hogwarts didn't even have those.

"Can I use it whenever I'm homesick? Even at night?"

"Of course."

Harry put the mirror and the wrapping on his desk. "I'll take this with me tomorrow," he promised, yawning.

Sirius knew the signs well. He got up and helped Harry get settled in bed, pulling the blankets over him, careful to give him enough room to breathe.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled. "G'night."

"Sweet dreams, Harry," he replied, kissing his forehead and brushing Harry's bangs out of his eyes.

"You too," he replied as sleep took over.

Sirius crept back to his room, feeling much better and extremely sleepy.

"Do you have everything?" Sirius questioned Harry the next day for what felt like the millionth time. They were standing amidst his three trunks as Harry held Merlie tightly, looking rather alarmed.

"I think so. We did the list yesterday, and I have the mirror with me. It seems like that's everything." Harry was trying hard not to laugh at the look of concentration on his godfather's face. "Um, how will we get to King's Cross?"

"The Knight Bus. Not my favorite form of transportation, but it would be nearly impossible with broomsticks. I don't fancy asking Vernon or Petunia if I can borrow the car, either," was the grim response.

Harry nodded, equally grim about the mode of transportation. He had been on the Knight Bus several times in the past few years. He threw up during about half of them.

"Well, let's go," Sirius announced. "Now, I gave you some money for treats and sandwiches for your lunch in your cloak pocket. Try not to spend it all at once," he added, rumpling a protesting Harry's hair. "You have your wand?"

"Right here, and I know about the sandwiches and money already. You only told me ten billion times," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You won't do that in public, will you?"

"Embarrass you or remind you of where things are?"

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"Good point. In that case, yes. Otherwise I wouldn't truly be fulfilling my role as guardian to you," Sirius explained in a hoity-toity manner. "Besides, all of the other parents will be doing it, and you surely don't want to be left out."

"Ha ha." Harry raised his eyebrows. Changing the subject, he added, "Which suitcase should I take, then?"

Sirius handed Harry the smallest one and the owl cage. "I can handle the rest," he promised. "Don't worry about lugging them off from the train or anything; that's done by magic."

Harry grinned widely. "Cool!"

They pulled the trunks downstairs, trying not to leave any major marks on the walls. At least, Harry tried; Sirius was resisting the temptation with all of his being. Once outside, Sirius waved his wand and seconds later, the familiar bus appeared with Stan giving his welcoming speech. They hopped on, and before long, Harry and Sirius were at King's Cross. Sirius immediately noticed the Weasleys, complaining about the place being crammed with Muggles.

"All right, Harry. Listen carefully," he instructed. "You know how your ticket says Platform Nine and three quarters?"

Harry nodded. "Wasn't that just a mistake, though?" he questioned.

"No, Puppy. No Muggle train will take you to Hogwarts," Sirius laughed. "Here's what you do. Walk straight towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. We'll do it in a bit of a run, since it's your first time and you're nervous. It won't hurt or anything, but be careful not to hesitate."

Harry nodded again, trying not to look terrified. Sirius ran a finger through his own hair, thinking the situation over.

"Why don't we watch the Weasleys do it first? That way, you can get an idea of how it's done."

"Okay."

They made their way towards the Weasleys. Percy had just disappeared through the barrier.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boy's mother.

"Nine and three quarters!" added a small, hopeful looking girl who was holding her hand. Sirius easily recognized her as Ginny. Harry used break into the storage area to steal Fred and George's brooms with her so that they could practice Quidditch. Her red hair had become on the curly side and was more than a few inches below her shoulder. Ginny's eyes were light brown and currently wide with excitement. Upon seeing Harry, she grabbed at her mother's shoulders and begged, "Mum, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first. Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred." His twin then called after him to hurry up.

Now, the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier –he was almost there— and then, suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

"Hello, Harry, dear!" Molly chirped. "Sirius! So nice to see you again. Off to Hogwarts, then, Harry?"

She didn't give them a chance to respond; immediately Sirius felt himself being smashed against Harry, surrounded by Molly's arms.

"Hi, Molly. I was just showing Harry how to get onto the platform," Sirius replied once he managed to get himself untangled.

"Why doesn't he go before Ron, then?" Molly questioned, clearly concerned.

_As though I don't know how to teach my own godson how to board the platform!_ Sirius mused, half amused, half annoyed.

"I was hoping that Harry and I could go together," was the cautious response.

Molly nodded in a parental way. "So hard to say goodbye…Yes, that might make the most sense. Well, go on, then. Best to do it in a bit of a run if you're nervous, Harry, dear," she added, echoing Sirius' advice from a minute ago.

"All right." Harry took a deep breath as though he was about to jump into the lake at Hogwarts, grabbed his trolley, and started running to the barrier.

Sirius ran to catch up with him. They were neck in neck by the time they had reached the platform.

Within seconds, they had both reappeared at the other side.

"See? That wasn't so bad!" Sirius grinned, rumpling Harry's hair. Harry looked positively mortified.

"Not in public!" he whined with a resigned look on his face, darting glances at the other children whose parents were behaving in much the same way. Secretly, Harry enjoyed the attention, and Sirius knew it.

"Too cool for a little public humiliation, Snitchy?" Sirius retorted. His hands were folded across his chest, but he was grinning widely.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Guess I should get on the train, then. It leaves in—" He checked his watch. "— less than ten minutes."

"Let your old, uncool godfather help you with your bags, at least," Sirius offered as they walked towards the Hogwarts Express.

Harry nearly snorted. "You're not old and you're not uncool!" he replied. "And thanks, I can use the help."

Sirius rumpled Harry's hair again in affection. "Look, there's Ronniekins."

"Don't let him hear you say that," he warned as he turned around slightly and saw the red haired boy race to catch up with his brothers. Molly and Ginny were just coming in from the barrier. Sirius noticed that Molly was holding her daughter's hand relatively tightly, as though she were about to break loose. Ginny, as a result, had a rather resigned look on her face. He made a mental note to try and cheer her up after Harry's train left.

Harry waved to the Weasleys as he boarded the train, barely managing to catch the suitcases that Sirius threw up towards the entrance. Ginny blushed somewhat as she waved back, immediately running a hand through her hair self-consciously.

"Someone has a crush," Sirius sang beneath his breath.

"Sirius! Knock it off!" Harry complained.

Sirius sighed. It would be no fun teasing Harry if it meant he wouldn't hear from him because of it. "All right, guess this is it, then for the godfatherly embarrassment. At least, until Christmas?" Sirius asked, looking up at his small godson.

Harry nodded. Sirius, unable to contain himself, climbed up the steps and embraced Harry in a huge hug. Harry squirmed for a minute, but then realized that he wanted the hug after all. All embarrassed feelings aside, he put his arms around Sirius and squeezed back, not wanting to let go of his godfather.

"You'll do fine," he whispered. "Just remember, you can use the mirror to talk to me anytime you like. And we'll send each other loads of owls, all right? That's why I have Andy, after all."

Harry nodded again, but still didn't want to let go. "I promise," he murmured, trying to remember everything about Sirius that he could for the long months ahead. The texture of his robes, the way his slight beard tickled Harry's chin, the way his breath smelled like orange juice. . .

Finally, Sirius broke off the hug, gradually. "You better get a compartment while you still can. If I don't get off soon, I'll be forced to take the trip, too," he warned gently.

"You could always come as Snuffles," Harry replied hopefully.

Sirius smiled, but shook his head. "Have fun. Now, last minute advice."

Harry groaned. "Didn't we go through this yesterday?"

Sirius ignored him. "I want you to get into _loads_ of trouble, but try to avoid getting caught whenever possible. You'll save more points for losing later, and if people catch you too soon, it makes it harder to get off the hook after something big. Now, you should definitely try to work hard, but don't worry if you don't always get full marks in everything. Make friends, the real kind that will do anything for you, including helping you sneak out of detention early," he instructed with a grin on his face. "I'll miss you."

"Me too. Bye," Harry replied, both laughing and trying to wipe the tears from their faces as they separated.

The last thing Sirius saw before Apparating back to Number Four, Privet Drive were the Weasley twins being scolded by Molly for promising to send Ginny a Hogwarts toilet seat.

Harry would be all right in a few days. Sirius knew it. Even so, he was more than a little misty eyed by the time he got back to Number Four, Privet Drive.

**The End (for now!)**

A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers, for their support, suggestions, and nagging me to update.  As I said earlier, I will be continuing this story for all of the books, and they will be titled variations of "An Alternate Route". (The next one, which should be up shortly, will be called An Alternate Route- Year One) Hope you'll continue reading!

EDITED TO ADD: The next story in the series can be found at my author page...ffn won't let me put the url here. Please r/r!


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